"Then I laid her upon the loose sand; and I swear to you, Hawbury, never in all my life have I seen such a sight. She lay there before my eyes a picture of loveliness beyond imagination--as beautiful as a dream--more like a child-angel than ever. Her hair clustered in golden curls over her white brow, her little hands were folded meekly over her breast, her lips were parted into a sweet smile, the gentle eyes no longer looked at me with the piteous, pleading, trustful, innocent expression which I had noticed in them before, and her hearing was deaf to the words of love and tenderness that I lavished upon her." "Good!" muttered Hawbury; "you talk like a novel. Drive on, old man. I'm really beginning to feel excited." "'The fact is," said Dacres, "I have a certain set of expressions about the child-angel that will come whenever I begin to describe her." "It strikes me, though, that you are getting on pretty well. You were speaking of 'love and tenderness.' Well?" "Well, she lay there senseless, you know, and I gently unclasped her hands and began to rub them. I think the motion of carrying her, and the fresh air, had both produced a favorable effect; for I had not rubbed her hands ten minutes when she gave a low sigh. Then I rubbed on, and her lips moved. I bent down close so as to listen, and I heard her say, in a low voice, "'Am I at home?' [Illustration: "I BENT DOWN CLOSE."] "'Yes,' said I, gently, for I thought it was best to humor her delirious fancy. "Then she spoke again: "'Is that you, papa dear?' "'Yes, darling,' said I, in a low voice; and I kissed her in a kind of paternal way, so as to reassure her, and comfort her, and soothe her, and all that sort of thing, you know." At this Hawbury burst into a shout of laughter. "What the mischief are you making that beastly row about?" growled Dacres. "Excuse me, old boy. I couldn't help it. It was at the idea of your doing the father so gravely." "Well, am I not old enough to be her father? What else could I do? She had such a pleading, piteous way. By Jove! Besides, how did she know any thing about it? It wasn't as if she was in her senses. She really thought I _was_ her father, you know. And I'm sure I almost felt as if I was, too." "All right, old man, don't get huffy. Drive on." "Well, you know, she kept her eyes closed, and didn't say another word till she heard the voice of Ethel at a distance. Then she opened her eyes, and got up on her feet. Then there was no end of a row--kissing, crying, congratulating, reproaching, and all that sort of thing. I withdrew to a respectful distance and waited. After a time they both came to me, and the child-angel gave me a look that made me long to be a father to her again. She held out her little hand, and I took it and pressed it, with my heart beating awfully. I was horribly embarrassed.