The return of Gerhardt brought forward the child question in all its bearings. He could not help considering it from the standpoint of a grandparent, particularly since it was a human being possessed of a soul. He wondered if it had been baptised. Then he inquired.

“No, not yet,” said his wife, who had not forgotten this duty, but had been uncertain whether the little one would be welcome in the faith.

“No, of course not,” sneered Gerhardt, whose opinion of his wife’s religious devotion was not any too great. “Such carelessness! Such irreligion! That is a fine thing.”

He thought it over a few moments, and felt that this evil should be corrected at once.

“It should be baptised,” he said. “Why don’t she take it and have it baptised?”

Mrs. Gerhardt reminded him that some one would have to stand godfather to the child and there was no way to have the ceremony performed without confessing the fact that it was without a legitimate father.

Gerhardt listened to this, and it quieted him for a few moments, but his religion was something which he could not see put in the background by any such difficulty. How would the Lord look upon quibbling like this? It was not Christian, and it was his duty to attend to the matter. It must be taken, forthwith, to the church, Jennie, himself, and his wife accompanying it as sponsors; or, if he did not choose to condescend thus far to his daughter, he must see that it was baptised when she was not present. He brooded over this difficulty, and finally decided that the ceremony should take place on one of these week-days, between Christmas and New Year’s, when Jennie would be at her work. This proposal he broached to his wife, and, receiving her approval, he made his next announcement. “It has no name,” he said.

Jennie and her mother had talked over this very matter, and Jennie had expressed a preference for Vesta. Now her mother made bold to suggest it as her own choice.

“How would Vesta do?”

Gerhardt heard this with indifference. Secretly he had settled the question in his own mind. He had a name in store, left over from the halcyon period of his youth, and never opportunely available in the case of his own children — Wilhelmina. Of course he had no idea of unbending in the least toward his small granddaughter. He merely liked the name, and the child ought to be grateful to get it. With a far-off, gingery air he brought forward this first offering upon the altar of natural affection, for offering it was, after all.

“That is nice,” he said, forgetting his indifference. “But how would Wilhelmina do?”

Mrs. Gerhardt did not dare cross him when he was thus unconsciously weakening. Her woman’s tact came to the rescue.

“We might give her both names,” she compromised.

“It makes no difference to me,” he replied, drawing back into the shell of opposition from which he had been inadvertently drawn. “Just so she is baptised.”

Jennie heard of this with pleasure, for she was anxious that the child should have every advantage, religious or otherwise, that it was possible to obtain. She took great pains to starch and iron the clothes it was to wear on the appointed day.

Gerhardt sought out the minister of the nearest Lutheran church, a round-headed, thick-set theologian of the most formal type to whom he stated his errand.

“Your grandchild?” inquired the minister.

“Yes,” said Gerhardt, “her father is not here.”

“So,” replied the minister, looking at him curiously.

Gerhardt was not to be disturbed in his purpose. He explained that he and his wife would bring her. The minister, realising the probable difficulty, did not question him further.

“The church cannot refuse to baptise her so long as you, as grandparent, are willing to stand sponsor for her,” he said.

Gerhardt came away, hurt by the shadow of disgrace in which he felt himself involved, but satisfied that he had done his duty. Now he would take the child and have it baptised and when that was over his present responsibility would cease.

When it came to the hour of the baptism, however, he found that another influence was working to guide him into greater interest and responsibility. The stern religion with which he was enraptured, its insistence upon a higher law, was there, and he heard again the precepts which had helped to bind him to his own children.

“Is it your intention to educate this child in the knowledge and love of the gospel?” asked the black-gowned minister, as they stood before him in the silent little church whither they had brought the infant; he was reading from the form provided for such occasions. Gerhardt answered, “Yes,” and Mrs. Gerhardt added her affirmative.

“Do you engage to use all necessary care and diligence, by prayerful instruction, admonition, example, and discipline that this child may renounce and avoid everything that is evil and that she may keep God’s will and commandments as declared in His sacred word?”

A thought flashed through Gerhardt’s mind as the words were uttered of how it had fared with his own children. They, too, had been thus sponsored. They too, had heard his solemn pledge to care for their spiritual welfare. He was silent.

“We do,” prompted the minister.

“We do,” repeated Gerhardt and his wife weakly.

“Do you now dedicate this child by the rite of baptism unto the Lord, who brought it.”

“We do.”

“And, finally, if you can conscientiously declare before God that the faith to which you have assented is y............