He had been a peculiar boy, unsettled, studious, impractical.

Miss Daphne was his younger sister, and ever since her girlhood had tried to give him all the love and encouragement that others refused.

She had trotted after him faithfully and happily on all of his exploring expeditions.

Perhaps one reason why these had been so successful was because somehow she had always managed to surround him with home comforts, even in the wilds of the upper Nile.

The Dean had had his regular meals and clean changes of clothing in the shadow of Nineveh's ruins in far Chaldea, just as though he had been in his own domicile.
And perhaps the quaintest thing about it all was that Miss Daphne herself, no matter on what particular point of the globe she had happened to pitch her tent, had always retained her courage, although she had faced dangers that the average woman would have fled from.