I must find out what this terrible prediction was and laugh it out of my husband's mind." Meantime the carriage rolled down the long avenue, under the majestic copper-beeches, through the lofty gates, and along the bright sunlit road leading to the village.
In stole and surplice, within the village church, the Reverend Cyrus Green, Rector of Stonehaven, stood by the baptismal font, waiting to baptize the heir of all the Kingslands.
Stately, Sir Jasper Kingsland strode up the aisle, with Lady Helen upon his arm.

No trace of the trouble within showed in his pale face as he heard his son baptized Everard Jasper Carew Kingsland.
The ceremony was over.

Nurse took the infant baronet again; Lady Helen adjusted her mantle, and the Reverend Cyrus Green was blandly offering his congratulations to the greatest man in the parish, when a sudden commotion at the door startled all.

Some one striving to enter, and some other one refusing admission.
"Let me in, I tell you!" cried a shrill, piercing voice--the voice of an angry woman.

"Stand aside, woman! I will see Sir Jasper Kingsland." With the last ringing words the intruder burst past the pew-opener, and rushed wildly into the church.