At the table, next the window, sat a man writing, also, as his lips showed, whistling a tune; and on the bare boards beside him sat a young woman with her baby on her lap, another child, of two or three years old, amusing itself by pulling her dishevelled hair.
"Here's your brother, Mr.Otw'y," yelled the little servant.

"Give that baby to me, mum.

I know what'll quoiet him, bless his little heart." Alexander sprang up, waving his arm in welcome.

He was a stoutish man of middle height, with thick curly auburn hair, and a full beard; geniality beamed from his blue eyes.
"Is it yourself, Piers ?" he shouted, with utterance suggestive of the Emerald Isle, though the man was so loudly English.

"It does me good to set eyes on you, upon my soul, it does! I knew you'd come.