Sir John Wetheral accompanied them in their return to Hatton, and Mrs. Pynsent was eager to exhibit her little charge. He was summoned into the dressing-room, where the happy grandmother was seated with the babe, preparing a little soaked biscuit in a small silver saucepan.
"Come in, come in, good folks: come in, Sir John Wetheral; here's a chap for you! Don't squeeze the young dog! Sit down, Sir John. Where's Tom? I'm just making a little meal for our young dog! Tom says he shall be christened 'Rattler;' but he shan't be named after beasts that perish."
Tom Pynsent came softly forth from Anna Maria's room, and received his father-in-law's warm congratulations. Sir John took the infant tenderly in his arms, and gave it a blessing, as he had done by the child of Isabel. Tom Pynsent, almost purple in the face with happy feelings, watched every movement of its arms and eyes.
"Upon my soul, it's the prettiest thing I ever saw! I do think, upon my soul, it is!"
"It's just what you were at that age, Tommy," replied his mother, as she assisted the nurse to prepare the biscuit; "it's just such a little darling pudsey thing as you were."
Sir John was allowed to see Anna Maria for one instant, to smile at her, but not to speak. All were then driven from the dressing-room by the mandate of Mrs. Pynsent.
"Off with you now, all of you. Wait in peace till Tom's allowed to see company, and then we will have rare doings."
Lady Wetheral's visit was paid in great form, a fortnight after the birth of Anna Maria's child, and Christobelle was to return with her to Wetheral when it was concluded. Mrs. Pynsent could not endure the protracted visit of a person equally related to the parties with herself.
"Such coolness," she observed to Sally Hancock, who was sent for to see Tom's child—"such cool ways of going on did not suit her ideas; and be hanged if my Lady Wetheral should see either mother or child!"