"Look up, little girl," Uncle Harry said, and his voice sounded so kindly, that she at once peeped at him through her tears.
"Which is the table where all this happened?"
"That one," said the child, "and the big girl is looking at me now."
"Then give me your hand, and, just for fun, _we'll_ go and look at _her_."
"Come," he said, and with a sunny smile, the little girl placed her hand in his, and the big, handsome man with the wee country lass approached the table together.
"I'll lift you up so you can see nicely," he said. "Now, which was the doll that fell from the table?"
Before the child could reply, the girl spoke sharply.
"'Twas that one, sir, and her meddlesome fingers,--"
"Never mind about that," said Uncle Harry, then turning to the child he said:
"Did you like that one best, or is that larger one finer?"
"That large one is the loveliest. I didn't _ever_ see one so fine as that."
"We'll have that one, then," he said, offering a bill to the astonished salesgirl.
"There, little girl, she's yours," he said, as he placed the big doll in her arms.
"I can hold her a little while?" she asked, eagerly.
"You can hold her _always_, if you want to," he said gently, "I bought her for you."
Rapturously she clasped the gift in her arms.
"Oh, I love you, because you are good," she cried.
"I'm Lois Ann Ferguson," chirped the little girl, "and father is Sandy Ferguson. Oh, there he is now. He's to play the pipes."
She ran toward a sturdy man dressed in Highland costume, and carrying the bagpipes under his arm.
Mr. Ferguson glanced at her flushed cheeks, saw the gorgeous doll that she flourished before his astonished eyes, and finally understood that the tall, handsome stranger had bestowed it upon his wee daughter, as a gift.
He took her little hand, and hurried forward, saying:
"I dinna ken why he should dae it for my wee lassie.
"I wad gladly thank ye, sir," he said, "but I'm lost in wonder that ye made wee Lois sae blithe an' gay wi' the braw gift."
"She's a dear little lass," said Uncle Harry, "and when I found her crying, I knew that a fine new doll would dry her tears. Don't bother to thank me. I made myself happy, when I comforted her."
"I wish there were mair like ye," said Sandy Ferguson, "an' some day when ye're older, an' ha' a wee daughter of yer ain,--"