innocence, bearing the Bible, a very image of early piety, entered the
room, and going up to his godfather, said with his little stammer:
"Tha-a-ank you, Godpapa, for this beautiful Bible! will you read me some
of it?"

Mr. Penny beamed with delight, and took the Bible. My mother rose to
leave the room, feeling almost unworthy of being present at so sacred an
interview, but as she reached the door, she heard Mr. Penny say: "And
what shall I read about?" "The De-e-evil!" said Hugh without the least
hesitation. My mother closed the door and came back.

There was one member of our family circle for whom Hugh did undoubtedly
cherish a very deep and tender affection from the time when his
affections first awoke--this was for the beloved Beth, the old family
nurse. Beth became nurse-maid to my grandmother, Mrs. Sidgwick, as a
young girl; and the first of her nurslings, whom she tended through an
attack of smallpox, catching the complaint herself, was my uncle,
William Sidgwick, still alive as a vigorous octogenarian. Henry
Sidgwick, Arthur Sidgwick, and my mother were all under Beth's care.
Then she came on with my mother to Wellington College and nursed us all
with the simplest and sweetest goodness and devotion. For Hugh, as the
last of her "children," she had the tenderest love, and lavished her
care, and indeed her money, on him. When we were all dispersed for a
time after my father's death, Beth went to her Yorkshire relations, and
pined away in separation from her dear ones. Hugh returned alone and
earlier than the rest, and Beth could bear it no longer, but came up
from Yorkshire just to get a glimpse of Hugh at a station in London as
he passed through, had a few words with him and a kiss, and gave him
some little presents which she thought he might like, returning to
Yorkshire tired out but comforted. I have always thought that little