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THE AUTHOR'S DAUGHTER.

had thought him. It was a pity he smiled so seldom, for his face was so completely changed when he smiled.

"Perhaps the Squire would like to see some of your views," said Mr. Copeland. "They have brought some good photographs of Australian scenery and Australian friends. Jessie, let Mr. Derrick see them."

Jessie hesitated a little, and it was with a trembling hand that she brought them out on a second and more urgent request from her father-in-law. She was half inclined to select a few and keep back the others.

"Let us see them all," said Mr. Copeland, impatiently; "they are all worth looking at. Here is Branxholm, Mr. Lindsay's head station, Mr. Derrick. We have no view of Gundabook to show you—that's the out-station that George had the management of."

Mr. Derrick turned the different views of Branxholm over and said what was proper about them. "This lady on horseback is not you, Mrs. George; your sister, I suppose?"

"No, this is my sister Isabel," said Jessie, pointing to another carte. "This is Amy Staunton, and this here is my brother Allan." Jessie tried to say the name " Amy Staunton" very distinctly. Anthony Derrick evidently knew the