“Well, my dearest, well, thank Heaven! Sends fondest love to you, my child, and waits your return with a joyful heart.” “Oh! how have I deserved this love and tenderness, this divine compassion and forgiveness? Oh! my father, I ought to fall—not on your neck—but at your feet, and say—what I feel! what I feel!—‘Father, I have sinned against Heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy child.’” “Hush! my darling, hush! We will talk later. Let us go away from here as soon as possible. Where is your babe, Jennie?” “In my stateroom, dear father, fast asleep. Will you come down with me and see her?” “Yes, dear.” The father and daughter struggled through the pressing crowd, and made their way slowly and with difficulty down into the cabin, which was now all “upside down” with ladies and ladies’ maids, and gentlemen and valets, stewards and stewardesses, getting together their “traps” and making ready to go on shore. Jennie took her father directly to her stateroom, where the pretty babe lay sleeping on the lower berth. Jennie lifted the babe and placed it in her father’s arms. The minister received the child, raised his eyes, and solemnly invoked God’s blessing on it, then stooped and pressed a kiss upon its brow. Finally he returned the babe to its mother, saying: “Wrap her up, my dear. We must hurry, or we shall miss the first return trip of the tender and have to wait for the second, which would cause us to lose our train.” Jennie quickly folded the baby in the warm white cloak and hood which had been given her by the Duncan children. “Now I will take her again and carry her for you. Do you take up your hand-bag and parasol. I will speak to have the other things brought after us,” said Mr. Campbell, as he led the way to the deck, carrying the babe, and followed by his daughter. The passengers had all left the steamer. Men were carrying baggage on board the tender. Mr. Campbell spoke to one of them, directing him to the stateroom of his daughter. Then, holding the babe on one arm, he gave the other to Jennie, and led her across the gangplank and on board the tender, where by this time all the passengers were gathered. In a few minutes the tender put off from the ship and steamed to the piers, where she soon arrived. The passengers swarmed out. Mr. Campbell called a cab, put his daughter and her child into it, followed them and gave the order: To the Lime Street Railway Station. When they reached the place the minister stopped the cab, got out and took the babe from her mother’s arms, and led the way into a second-class waiting-room. “You will stay here, my dear,” he said, “while I go back to the custom house and get your baggage through. You will not mind?” “Oh, no, dearest father. I shall not mind anything, except missing the sight of your dear face, even for a minute. It seems to me as if I should never bear to lose sight of you again.”