to his old friend asking him to come to him. An Wolf gladly
promised, and for a week of growing expectation the Squire looked
forward to their meeting. Each found the other somewhat changed, in
all but their old affection.

An Wolf was delighted with the little Stephen. Her dainty beauty
seemed to charm him; and the child, seeming to realise what pleasure
she was giving, exercised all her little winning ways. The rector,
who knew more of children than did his, friend, told her as she sat
on his knee of a very interesting person: his own son. The child
listened, interested at first, then enraptured. She asked all kinds
of questions; and the father's eyes brightened as he gladly answered
the pretty sympathetic child, already deep in his heart for her
father's sake. He told her about the boy who was so big and strong,
and who could run and leap and swim and play cricket and football
better than any other boy with whom he played. When, warmed himself
by the keen interest of the little girl, and seeing her beautiful
black eyes beginning to glow, he too woke to the glory of the time;
and all the treasured moments of the father's lonely heart gave out
their store. And the other father, thrilled with delight because of
his baby's joy with, underlying all, an added pleasure that the
little Stephen's interest was in sports that were for boys, looked on
approvingly, now and again asking questions himself in furtherance of
the child's wishes.

All the afternoon they sat in the garden, close to the stream that
came out of the rock, and An Wolf told father's tales of his only
son. Of the great cricket match with Castra Puerorum when he had
made a hundred not out. Of the school races when he had won so many
prizes. Of the swimming match in the Islam River when, after he had