"Russell! Now, that's funny. One of the nicest and bravest chaps I met while I was in South Africa was named Russell—Gordon Russell."
Ella's whole face was lit up with delight.
"Oh," she cried, "that must be my father, for his name is Gordon, and he is as brave—as a lion!"
"Yes, I agree with you." All on a sudden Dr. Carteret's voice had grown strangely quiet. "But for this father of yours, little Ella," he went on, "I shouldn't be here to-day."
"What do you mean, Phil dear?" asked Mrs. Snowden wonderingly.
"Well, to make a long story short, Bert Crofton—you know Bert Crofton, son of old Sir James, up at Berryland Grange—and I were out bathing one day in the river. Suddenly the poor chap was taken with cramp, and seeing he was in difficulties I swam up to him; he seized on me like an octopus and dragged me under, so that I was helpless. We were both pretty well done for when Russell swam out to our rescue. He must have been a practised hand at life-saving, for he gripped hold of Crofton in just the right way, and got him to land. Then, when I was about exhausted, for Crofton had nearly been the death of me, he managed to bring me in safety to the shore, and here I am to tell the tale."
Ella's eyes were shining like stars. "That's just like father," she said, her voice all a-quiver. "Please, did he say," she added, half pathetically, "when he was coming home?"
"No, little girl, he didn't. He's working pretty hard out there, I can tell you. One of these fine days he'll pay you a surprise visit I suspect, like I've done to these youngsters—that'll be first-rate, won't it?"
Ella nodded her head. Tears of excitement and delight were too near the surface for speech.
"Didn't I tell you, Cinderella," said Kenneth, "that Uncle Phil's yarns would make your hair curl? I declare now, it's getting quite a woolly mop."