"I begin to see it all now," said Harry half to himself.  "Don't trouble yourself, ma'am; I don't need to ask no more questions.  I don't want any one to tell me who Miss Julia's mother is; there can be no doubt about that, they're as like as two peas; and I begin to see a bit what Mr Amos has been a-doing.  God bless his dear, unselfish heart!  Come here to me, my child," he added with a pleasant smile.  The little Julia looked hard at him from behind the shelter of her nurse's gown for a moment, but soon lost all fear, for there was something attractive to her in the old man's snow-white hair and venerable face, as, surely, there is commonly a sweet sympathy between the guileless childhood of infancy and the holy childhood of God--fearing old age.  So she shyly drew towards him, and let him place her on his knee; and then she looked up wonderingly at him, as his tears fell fast on her brown hair, and his voice was choked with sobs.  "Yes," he said, "my precious Miss Julia, you're the very image of what your blessed mother was at your age.  I've had her like this on my knee scores of times.  Ah! well, perhaps a brighter day's coming for us all."