I hae been a good holder o' Crawford and Traquare." His self-complacent reflections were cut short by the entrance of his daughter.

She stood beside him, and laid her hand upon his arm with a caressing gesture.

No other living creature durst have taken that liberty with him; but to Crawford his daughter Helen was a being apart from common humanity.

She was small, but very lovely, with something almost Puritanical in her dainty, precise dress and carefully snooded golden hair.
"Father!" "Helen, my bird." "Colin is coming home.

I have just had a letter from him.