Punctual to the moment, she came out of the house, led by the hand by the servant, who looked horribly grimy. Holdsworth ran to the door and opened it, and when the child came timidly up to him, snatched her up in his arms, and hastened with her into the sitting-room, kissing her all the way. “There’s a good little pet,” he said sitting down and keeping her on his knee. “Let me take off your hat. Nelly mustn’t be afraid of me.” “My own! my own!” he murmured, as his lingering fingers caressed her soft hair, and he gazed with passionate love at her big eyes, roving with a half-scared expression from his face around the room. “Me dot dolly,” she said, producing the old toy from under her cloak. “Ay, that’s right; and dolly shall have a slice of cake all to herself. Here she is!” he exclaimed, seeing Mrs. Parrot peeping in at the door. “Will you take her hat and this little cape?” “How do you do, dear?” said Mrs. Parrot, giving the child a kiss. “Look at my frock!” exclaimed Nelly, holding up her dress, which had a little embroidery work upon it, and which bore marks of much patient mending and darning. “Beautiful! beautiful!” cried Mrs. Parrot. “I’ve set the kettle on to bile, sir, and tea’ll be ready whiniver you’re pleased to want it.” So saying, she dropped a courtesy, being greatly impressed by Mr. Hampden’s undoubted wealth, illustrated by his prodigal purchases, and withdrew. Father and child! A lonely man, gentle, honourable, faithful, as any whom God in His wisdom has chosen to afflict, opening his heart to receive and fold up the sweetness and innocence of his own little baby! Ah! I think even Mrs. Parrot might have guessed the strange mystery of this man’s desire for the child, had she but watched him from some secret hiding-place when the door had closed upon her. He surrendered himself to his emotion when he felt himself alone with the little girl, and for many moments could not speak to her, could do no more than look at her, searching her fairy lineaments with something almost of a woman’s ecstasy, reading his brief history of hopeful, beautiful love in her fresh deep eyes, and drinking in greedily the memories of the days that were no more, which thronged from the face that mirrored his as it was when Dolly knew him, as the dew-drop mirrors the sun. But he was recalled to himself by the gathering expression of fear in Nelly. Indeed, there was something alarming enough to her in the concentrated passion, all soft and holy as it was, that shone in his fixed regard. Such abandonment to feeling would not do, if the part he was to play was to be complete. He placed her gently on the floor, and, going to the cupboard, brought out the doll. “See, Nelly! here is a little lady I invited expressly to drink tea with you. She told me that she had often seen you pass her shop in the High Street, and that she wanted to live with you. You must take her home when you leave me, will you?”