It is mine.

I could not make myself anything but Mrs.John Caldigate if I would.

And he,' she said, taking the baby up from its cradle and pressing it to her bosom, 'he shall be Daniel Caldigate to the day of his death.

Do you think that I will take a step that shall look like robbing my child of his honest name,--that will seem to imply a doubt that he is not his own father's honest boy,--that he is not a fitting heir to the property which his forefathers have owned so long?
Never! They may call me what name they will, but I will call myself John Caldigate's wife as long as I have a voice to make myself heard.' It was the same protest over and over again, and it was vain to answer.
'You will not stay under your father's roof ?' 'No; I have to live under my husband's roof.' Then Mrs.Bolton left the room, apparently in anger.

Though her heart within might be melting with ruth, still it was necessary that she should assume a look of anger.