"You, my dear," said Aunt Annie, rather pointedly.
"I am the godmother," said Harriet, with the light of battle in her eyes.
"So I hear. But don't forget she is to be the child of a police constable."
"She is not the child of a police constable," said Harriet, with a mounting color.
"I don't know whose child she is. That is a question I prefer to avoid. But in my humble opinion it will be a grave mistake to educate her above the class to which it has pleased Providence to call her. No good can come of it."
"That's nonsense!" The fine voice had a slight tremble in it.
Aunt Annie looked down her large nose. "At any rate, that has always been my view. And it has always been the view of, I will not say who. It is very perilous to tamper with the order of Divine Providence. And I am surprised that one who has been called to a position of high responsibility should think otherwise."
The quick flush upon Harriet's cheek showed that the old lady had got home. She was always formidable at close quarters; even Harriet had to be wary in trying a fall with her.
"The child must have a good, sensible upbringing. Let her be taught cooking, sewing, plain needlework, and so on. And I shall be very glad to give a little advice from time to time. But I repeat it will be most unwise to set her up, no matter who her parents may be, above the station in life to which it has pleased Providence to call her."
Again the light of battle darkened the eyes of Harriet.
