“Little Miss,” said Mr. Dymock, “what little Miss? who have you got there?”

“Neither more nor less,” replied Mrs. Margaret, “than your foundling.”

“Impossible!” said Mr. Dymock:  “Why, what have you done to her?”

“Merely washed, combed, and dressed her,” said Mrs. Margaret; “give me credit, nephew, and tell me what I have brought out by my diligence.”

“You have brought out a brilliant from an unfinished stone,” exclaimed Mr. Dymock; “that is a beautiful child; I shall have extreme delight in making as much of that fine mind, as you have done with that beautiful exterior.”

“Then you do not think of putting her in a foundling hospital or a workhouse, nephew, as you proposed last night?” said Mrs. Margaret, with a smile.

“It would be a folly,” replied the nephew, “to degrade such a creature as that;” and he attempted to kiss the baby; but, swift as thought, she had turned her face away, and was clinging to Mrs. Margaret.

The old lady primmed up again with much complacency, “Did I not tell you, nephew, how it was,” she said, “nothing will do but Aunt Margaret.  Well, I suppose I must give her my poor pussy’s corner in my bed.  But now her back is turned to you, Dymock, observe the singular mark on her shoulder, and tell me what it is?”

Mr. Dymock saw this mark with amazement:—­He saw that it was no natural mark; and at length, though not till after he had examined it many times, he made it out, or fancied he had done so, to be a branch of a palm tree.  From the first he had made up his mind that this was a Jewish child; and, following the idea of the palm-tree, and tracing the word in a Hebrew lexicon,—­for he was a Hebrew scholar, though not a deep one,—­he found that Tamar was the Hebrew for a palm tree.  “And Tamar it shall be,” he said; “this maid of Judah, this daughter of Zion shall be called Tamar;” and he carried his point, although Mrs. Margaret made many objections, saying it was not a Christian name, and therefore not proper for a child who was to be brought up as a Christian.  However, as Mr. Dymock had given up his whim of learning the business of a smith since the adventure which has been so fully related, and had forgotten the proposed experiment of turning up the whole moor round the Tower with his new-fangled plough,—­that plough having ceased to be an object of desire to him as soon as it was completed,—­she thought it best to give way to this whim of giving the child so strange a name, and actually stood herself at the font, as principal sponsor for little Tamar.

Thus, the orphan was provided with a happy home; nor, as Mrs. Margaret said, did she ever miss the child’s little bite and sup.  After a few days, the babe would condescend to leave Mrs. Margaret, when required to go to the servants.  She would even, when directed so to do, steal across the floor, and accept a seat on Mr. Dymock’s knee, and gradually she got very fond of him.  Nor was her affection unrequited;