"No. I am nobody. I have not even been baptised."

He sprang up from his chair, horrified.

"Not baptised!" he exclaimed--"Not baptised! Do you mean to tell
me that Farmer Jocelyn never attended to this imperative and
sacred duty on your behalf?--that he allowed you to grow up as a
heathen?"

She remained unmoved by his outburst.

"I am not a heathen," she said, gently--"I believe in God--as Dad
believed. I'm sorry I have not been baptised--but it has made no
difference to me that I know of--"

"No difference!" and the clergyman rolled up his eyes and shook
his head ponderously--"You poor unfortunate girl, it has made all
the difference in the world! You are unregenerate--your soul is
not washed clean--all your sins are upon you, and you are not
redeemed!"

She looked at him tranquilly.

"That is all very sad for me if it is true," she said--"but it is
not my fault. I could not help it. Dad couldn't help it either--he
did not know what to do. He expected that I might be claimed and
taken away any day--and he had no idea what name to give me--
except Innocent--which is a name I suppose no girl ever had
before. He used to get money from time to time in registered
envelopes, bearing different foreign postmarks--and there was