And then Ruth told him how she came into possession of Hetty, of how Henrietta had come to grief, ending with, "And there isn't another one like Hetty in all the world, Uncle Sidney. I love her so dearly."
He put his hand on her head. "No," he said, "of course, you don't have to give her up. Lillian certainly spoils that boy," he added half to himself.
Then to Ruth. "If anybody wants to interfere with your belongings, little girl, just send them to me. I'll speak to your Aunt Lillie about this."
And Ruth was going away satisfied, leaving her uncle to his newspaper and the comfort of the library fire, when he called her back. "Here are some picture papers," he said, "don't you want to look at them?"
He produced a bundle of papers, unrolled them upon the table before her, and she felt a warmth of heart at the unwonted attention.
Mrs. Mayfield coming a few minutes later, looked with surprise at the child absorbed in the pictures. Ruth was rarely seen at that hour.
Mr. Mayfield glanced up from his paper. "See here, Lillie," he said, "don't insist upon Ruth's giving up her toys to Bertie. I won't have it. You spoil that boy."
"Oh," said Mrs. Mayfield giving Ruth a little contemptuous glance, "she has been telling tales, has she?"
"She has been defending her rights," returned Mr. Mayfield, "and I don't want the occasion for it to come again."
Mrs. Mayfield raised her eyebrows. "Such a tempest in a tea-pot," she said walking out of the room.