"Lulu, sissy, papa's come; this is papa," the little boy cried,

assuming the honor of the introduction.

Lulu, as they called her, was not afraid of the tall soldier, and

stretching out her fat, white hands, went to him readily. Blue-eyed

and golden haired, she bore but little resemblance to either father or

mother, but there was a sweet, beautiful face, of which Maddy had

often dreamed, but never seen, and whether it were in the infantile

features of his little girl. Parting lovingly her yellow curls and

kissing her fair cheek, he said to Maddy, softly, just as he always

spoke of that dead one: "Maddy, darling, Margaret Holbrook is right--our baby daughter is very

much like our dear lost Lucy Atherstone."



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