A child was standing there--a girl with soft smooth hair, and large eyes, and a sensitive mouth, with an expression fearless but appealing.

Her hands were clasped before her, and she was standing in doubt whether to advance.

There was something so strange, in this apparition in the lonely room, that the squire did not speak for a moment.

It flashed across him, vaguely, that there was something familiar to him in the face and expression, something which sent a thrill through him; and at the same instant, without knowing why, he felt that there was a connection between the appearance of the child, and the matter he had just been thinking of--John Petersham's strange conduct.

He was still looking at her, when she advanced quietly towards him.
"Grandpapa," she said, "I am Aggie Linthorne." A low cry of astonishment broke from the squire.