Mrs. Cameron had asked if she would not like to see Mr. Cameron, the elder, before going down to dinner, and Katy had answered that she would; so as soon as Esther had smoothed a refractory fold and brought her handkerchief, she followed to the room where Wilford’s father was sitting.  He might not have felt complimented could he have known that something in his appearance reminded Katy of Uncle Ephraim.  He was not nearly as old or as tall, nor was his hair as white, but the resemblance, if there were any, lay in the smile with which he greeted Katy, calling her his youngest child, and drawing her closely to him.

It was remarked of Mr. Cameron that since their babyhood he had never kissed one of his own children; but when Katy, who looked upon such a salutation as a matter of course, put up her rosy lips, making the first advance, he could not resist them, and he kissed her twice.  Hearty, honest kisses they were, for the man was strongly drawn toward the young girl, who said to him, timidly: 

“I am glad to have a father—­mine died before I could remember him.  May I call you so?”

“Yes, yes; God bless you, my child,” and Mr. Cameron’s voice shook as he said it, for neither Bell nor Juno were wont to address him just as Katy did—­Katy, standing close to him, with her hand upon his shoulder and her kiss yet fresh upon his lips.

She had already crept a long way into his heart, and he took her hand from his shoulder and holding it between his own, said to her: 

“I did not think you were so small or young.  You are my little daughter, my baby, instead of my son’s wife.  How do you ever expect to fulfill the duties of Mrs. Wilford Cameron?”

“It’s my short hair, sir.  I am not so young,” Katy answered, her eyes filling with tears as she began to wish back the heavy braids which Helen cut away when the fever was at its height.

“Never mind, child,” Mr. Cameron rejoined, playfully.  “Youth is no reproach; there’s many a one would give their right hand to be young like you.  Juno, for instance, who is—­”

“Hus-band!” came reprovingly from Mrs. Cameron, spoken as only she could speak it, with a prolonged buzzing sound on the first syllable, and warning the husband that he was venturing too far.

“It is time to go down if Mrs. Cameron sees the young ladies before dinner,” she said, a little stiffly; whereupon her better half startled Katy with the exclamation: 

“Mrs. Cameron!  Thunder and lightning, wife, call her Katy, and don’t go into any nonsense of that kind.”

The lady reddened, but said nothing until she reached the hall, when she whispered to Katy, apologetically: 

“Don’t mind it.  He is rather irritable since his illness, and sometimes makes use of coarse language.”