with the habit held over her arms, with the tiny hunting-hoots all
shiny underneath. She had no hat on, and her beautiful hair of
golden red shone in its glory. But even it was almost outshone by
the joyous flush on her cheeks as she stood waving the little hand
that did not hold Daddy's. She was certainly a picture to dream of!
Her father's eyes lost nothing of her dainty beauty. He was so proud
of her that he almost forgot to wish that she had been a boy. The
pleasure he felt in her appearance was increased by the fact that her
dress was his own idea.

During luncheon Stephen was fairly silent; she usually chattered all
through as freely as a bird sings. Stephen was silent because the
occasion was important. Besides, Daddy wasn't all alone, and
therefore had not to be cheered up. Also--this in postscript form--
Harold was silent! In her present frame of mind Harold could do no
wrong, and what Harold did was right. She was unconsciously learning
already a lesson from his presence.

That evening when going to bed she came to say good-night to Daddy.
After she had kissed him she also kissed 'old Mr. Harold,' as she now
called him, and as a matter of course kissed Harold also. He
coloured up at once. It was the first time a girl had ever kissed
him.

The next day from early morning until bed-time was one long joy to
Stephen, and there were few things of interest that Harold had not
been shown; there were few of the little secrets which had not been
shared with him as they went about hand in hand. Like all manly boys
Harold was good to little children and patient with them. He was
content to follow Stephen about and obey all her behests. He had