When Mousey's distress had abated somewhat, the old man called her to him again, and addressed her as follows—
"Listen to me, child! You are left alone in the world, and unprovided for. Your aunt and her husband— very foolish people in my estimation— are willing to undertake the charge of you. If you become a member of their household, you cannot be anything but a burden to them for many a year to come."
"No, no!" interposed Uncle Dick.
The old man proceeded as though he had not heard the interruption.
"I don't think you should take advantage of your aunt and uncle's kindness. I'm a man of my word, and when I say a thing I mean it. I'll provide for you, and you shall have a comfortable home. Come now, what do you say?" Mousey lifted her eyes timidly, and answered in a voice which trembled pitifully—
"I—I don't know what to say. You are very kind, but—but— Please, Aunt Eliza, will you speak for me?"
"Let Mousey return with us to-night, Cousin Robert," Aunt Eliza said, after a few moments' consideration, "and, with your permission, we'll take a little time to think the matter over. In the course of a few days I will write to you, if you will keep your kind offer open so long."
"Very well," Mr. Harding replied. "I stick to what I've said, remember. If I can be of any use in settling your sister's affairs, I'm at your service. It's no good my staying here any longer, so I'll say good-bye. Have you a kiss to spare for your cousin, Mousey?"
The little girl smiled through her tears as she lifted her pale face and kissed the old man's withered cheek.
"Think over what I've said, my dear," he whispered; "and mind! You're to call me Cousin Robert."