They might possibly be required some day as evidences of identification." "Not much fear of that," returned the doctor, with a smile.

"Still, as you say, it is best to be cautious." "Here is the first--you may as well keep it with the rest," said Lord Charlewood; "it is a copy of my marriage certificate.

Then you have here the certificates of my little daughter's birth and of my poor wife's death.

Now we will add to these a signed agreement between you and myself for the sum I have spoken about." Rapidly enough Lord Charlewood filled up another paper, which was signed by the doctor and himself; then Stephen Letsom gathered them all together.

Margaret Dornham saw him take from the sideboard a plain oaken box bound in brass, and lock the papers in it.
"There will be no difficulty about the little lady's identification while this lasts," he said, "and the papers remain undestroyed." She could not account for the impulse that led her to watch him so closely, while she wondered what the papers could be worth.
Then both gentlemen turned their attention from the box to the child.
Lord Charlewood would be leaving directly, and it would be the last time that he, at least, could see the little one.