even the aforementioned elderly parishioner was compelled to allow before
three months were over that little Theodora--for we turned the name of
my youngest daughter upside down for her--"was a proper child." To none,
however, did she seem to bring so much delight as to our dear Constance.
Oftener than not, when I went into her room, I found the sleepy, useless
little thing lying beside her on the bed, and her staring at it with such
loving eyes! How it began, I do not know, but it came at last to be called
Connie's Dora, or Miss Connie's baby, all over the house, and nothing
pleased Connie better. Not till she saw this did her old nurse take quite
kindly to the infant; for she regarded her as an interloper, who had no
right to the tenderness which was lavished upon her. But she had no sooner
given in than the baby began to grow dear to her as well as to the rest. In
fact, the house was ere long full of nurses. The staff included everyone
but myself, who only occasionally, at the entreaty of some one or other of
the younger ones, took her in my arms.

But before she was three months old, anxious thoughts began to intrude, all
centering round the question in what manner the child was to be brought up.
Certainly there was time enough to think of this, as Ethelwyn constantly
reminded me; but what made me anxious was that I could not discover the
principle that ought to guide me. Now no one can tell how soon a principle
in such a case will begin, even unconsciously, to operate; and the danger
was that the moment when it ought to begin to operate would be long past
before the principle was discovered, except I did what I could now to find
it out. I had again and again to remind myself that there was no cause for
anxiety; for that I might certainly claim the enlightenment which all who
want to do right are sure to receive; but still I continued uneasy just
from feeling a vacancy where a principle ought to have been.