Some few years before, this lady had married Colonel Heriot, a widower with one little boy — Thomas. After that, Blanche was born: so that She and Tom were only half-brother — and — sister. When Blanche was two years Old — She was three now — Colonel Heriot died, and Mrs. Heriot had come into the country to economize. She was not at all well Off; had, indeed, little beyond what was allowed her with the two children: all their father's fortune had lapsed to them, and she had no control over it. Tom had more than Blanche, and was to be brought up for a soldier. As we stood in a group outside the gate, my father came by. Seeing me, he naturally stopped, took off his hat to Mrs. Heriot, and spoke. This is how the acquaintanceship began, without formal introduction on either side. Taking the pretty little girl in his arms, he began talking to her for he was very fond Of children. Mrs. Heriot said some thing to him in low, feeling tones about his wife's death.