"Yes, dear, all," said Mr. Stancombe, rather gravely, for he guessed at once what thought was in his little daughter's mind.

"But I don't think they all remember it alike, papa, because Uncle and Aunt Bevan always take so much trouble about me, and Mrs. Clayton has never written to me once since I have been born, though she is my godmother; and the day we went to see her in London, she never said anything to me about it. I don't even think she remembered it; and last Sunday, when you were baptizing the little baby in church, and spoke to the godparents about taking care that they learned good things, I could not help thinking that Mrs. Clayton took very little care to see that I did."

"You are not very old yet, Ellen," said her father; "perhaps Mrs. Clayton does not think that the time has come yet for her work to begin; besides, she thinks, no doubt, that your mamma and I are doing what is needful for you."

"But Uncle and Aunt Bevan know that too, papa," persisted little Ellen, whose mind, once set upon a subject, was not easily diverted from it. "They know it a great deal better even than Mrs. Clayton can, because they so often come here, and so they see what a great deal of trouble you and mamma take to teach me, and yet they are always giving me good books; and Aunt Bevan talks so much to me about my baptism, and what she promised for me then. Aunt Bevan thinks a promise such a solemn thing; she said so the other day."

"And so it is, Ellen, one of the most solemn things in the world," said her father.

"I wonder," continued Ellen, "whether Mrs. Clayton thinks so?"

"Ellen,” replied Mr. Stancombe, gravely, for it was often one of this good father's troubles not to know exactly how to deal with this free-thinking and outspeaking little mind, so afraid was he by word or look of repressing the confidence which had ever been so freely reposed in him, and yet so anxious was he to retain in his child's mind both the reverence due to those older than herself, and the charity that thinketh no evil; "Ellen, it is not for us to trouble ourselves about others."

"Not about others, papa," replied Ellen, quickly, "it is about myself. I hope it isn't wicked, papa ; but sometimes I wish Mrs. Clayton wasn't my other godmother. I do wish you and mamma had not asked her to be; because I don't believe she cares a bit about me."

If the same regret held any place in Mr. Stancombe's own mind, it was not to Ellen that he would have acknowledged it, certainly not in her present state of feeling. He only said, "There is a verse in the Bible, Ellen, that says we are to judge nothing before the time, and certainly the time has not yet come for a little girl of ten years old to pronounce judgment on her godmother, because until now she has not taken any notice of her."

Well," said Ellen, "I don't think Mrs. Clayton will ever take any notice of me, papa; and I think that some godparents never do, for the day

before yesterday, when mamma and I went to see Miss Audley, and we were talking about her having the same names as I have, Ellen Mary,' and how strange it was, I said I was called after my two godmothers, and she said she was called after her mamma and her grandmamma, and that, as to godmammas, she did not even know whether she had any, she had never heard anything about them. I thought it so strange, papa, I asked her whether she had not been baptized in a church like ours, and she laughed, and said of course she had, in this very church here, which her papa built t; so of course she must have had godparents too, like other children. And of course they must have made the same promises."

"Of course they must, Ellen; and as 'Ellen Mary Audley' is not very much older than Ellen Mary Stancombe' we must hope that her godparents also will remember their duty to her, and fulfil it some day. But even if they never should do so, we must remember that we have nothing to do with the way in which other people fulfil their duties. Certainly, at least, children have not; grown up people, and ministers like me, have to warn others, and often remonstrate with them; but that is not your work-is it Nell ?"

"Oh, no, papa; and perhaps I ought not even to think about Mrs. Clayton's not taking any notice of me. But it's very nice to have one godmother like Aunt Bevan, papa, isn't it? I'm sure she remembers her promise."

"Indeed she does, Ellen, and a great blessing it

is to have such an aunt and such a godmother, one who never undertakes any duty without having first made up her mind to its faithful fulfilment, and who, once having undertaken it, goes on with it prayerfully, patiently, perseveringly. This I do think, Ellen, that if we had more such praying, persevering, painstaking godparents we should have bettertaught and better-principled little ones amongst our baptized children, especially amongst the poor."

Mr. Stancombe's remark sent Ellen's ideas off in a new direction, and she began wondering whether the unfortunate little girl whom they were going to visit that day had any godparents to look after her; but on suggesting this question to Mr. Stancombe, he at once pronounced that there was no more time left for the discussion of this, or any other matter, if the Church Catechism were to be repeated that morning. So it was reserved until the lessons with her father were over, when she thought she would ask her mother's opinion about the matter.

CHAPTER VII.

PROMISE AND VOW.

LLEN'S mind, once turned to any subject, was with difficulty diverted from it until

she had learned, to her own satisfaction, all she desired to know. Accordingly, no sooner had she and her mother set out on their afternoon walk to Nellie Morton's cottage, than she commenced her inquiries respecting the probability of that little girl's having any godparents to look after her. Mrs. Stancombe told her all that she herself knew on the subject, and having inquired in her turn what led her little daughter to think about the matter, Ellen repeated to her the conversation that had taken place between her papa and herself that morning, adding, very emphatically, "But I think one shouldn't be a godmother unless one means to take care of one's godchildren. Why, mamma, little Nellie Morton might never even have heard of the Church Catechism if Mrs. Blake hadn't made her learn it at week-day school; for there's never been a Sunday school here, and the children don't say their Catechism in church, as they used to do at Wolverton."