"But, sir, I haven't used a quarter part of what the other gentleman paid me. In truth, I only spent what I did to buy the baby's clothes, of which she hadn't a rag but what was on her when the other gentleman put her in my arms."
"So much the more reason I should advance you this money."
"Why? because I have got so much already, sir?"
"—Because you are so simple and honest. Few people would believe in such simplicity and honesty, Mrs. Fugitt."
"Then Lord forgive 'em, sir."
"Amen. And now, Mrs. Fugitt, a last word, and then good-bye. If you should ever wish to communicate with me, you may do it by inclosing a letter to Mr. Sheridan, or sending a message by him."
"Yes, sir."
"And now let me take another look at this little one."
"But there is another thing, sir: What is her name? I asked the gentleman, and he said he did not know, but you would tell me."
"'Her name?'" repeated Lyon Berners, as he gazed down upon the face of the sleeping child—the prison-born child—"Her name? It is Ingemisca; call her Ingemisca."