For some weeks after his wife's death Squire Norman was overwhelmed with grief.

He made a brave effort, however, to go through the routine of his life; and succeeded so far that he preserved an external appearance of bearing his loss with resignation.

But within, all was desolation.
Little Stephen had winning ways which sent deep roots into her father's heart.

The little bundle of nerves which the father took into his arms must have realised with all its senses that, in all that it saw and heard and touched, there was nothing but love and help and protection.
Gradually the trust was followed by expectation.

If by some chance the father was late in coming to the nursery the child would grow impatient and cast persistent, longing glances at the door.