"O, I don't think there's much harm in her," I returned, which was easy
generosity, seeing my wife was taking my part. "Indeed, I am not sure that
we are not both considerably indebted to her; for it was after I met her
that a thought came into my head as to how we ought to do with Theodora."

"Still troubling yourself about that, husband?"

"The longer the difficulty lasts, the more necessary is it that it should
be met," I answered. "Our measures must begin sometime, and when, who can
tell? We ought to have them in our heads, or they will never begin at all."

"Well, I confess they are rather of a general nature at present--belonging
to humanity rather than the individual, as you would say--consisting
chiefly in washing, dressing, feeding, and apostrophe, varied with
lullabying. But our hearts are a better place for our measures than our
heads, aren't they?"

"Certainly; I walk corrected. Only there's no fear about your heart. I'm
not quite so sure about your head."

"Thank you, husband. But with you for a head it doesn't matter, does it?"

"I don't know that. People should always strengthen the weaker part, for no
chain is stronger than its weakest link; no fortification stronger than
its most assailable point. But, seriously, wife, I trust your head nearly,
though not quite, as much as your heart. Now to go to business. There's
one thing we have both made up our minds about--that there is to be no
concealment with the child. God's fact must be known by her. It would be
cruel to keep the truth from her, even if it were not sure to come upon her
with a terrible shock some day. She must know from the first, by hearing it