"Lulu, sissy, papa's come; this is papa," the little boy cried,
assuming the honor of the introduction.
Lulu, as they called her, was not afraid of the tall soldier, and
stretching out her fat, white hands, went to him readily. Blue-eyed
and golden haired, she bore but little resemblance to either father or
mother, but there was a sweet, beautiful face, of which Maddy had
often dreamed, but never seen, and whether it were in the infantile
features of his little girl. Parting lovingly her yellow curls and
kissing her fair cheek, he said to Maddy, softly, just as he always
spoke of that dead one: "Maddy, darling, Margaret Holbrook is right--our baby daughter is very
much like our dear lost Lucy Atherstone."