Bindle regarded Mrs. Bindle with wonder. Into her eyes had crept a something he had only once seen there before, and that was on the occasion he had brought Millie to Fenton Street when she left home.
Seeing that "Baby" was content, Millie dropped into a chair with a tired little sigh, her eyes fixed upon the precious bundle of lace containing what would one day be a man.
Mrs. Bindle continued to sway and croon in a way that seemed to Little Joe's entire satisfaction.
"Aren't you glad we called him after you, Uncle Joe?" said Millie, tearing her eyes with difficulty from the bundle and turning them upon Bindle.
"Yer aunt told me," he said simply.
"Oh! I do hope he'll grow up like you, Uncle Joe, dear Uncle Joe," she cried, clasping her hands in her earnestness, as if that might help to make good her wish.
"Like me?" There was wonder and incredulity in his voice.
"Charley says he must grow up like you, darling Uncle Joe. You see——" She broke off as Bindle suddenly turned and, without a word, made for the door. A moment later it banged-to behind him arousing Mrs. Bindle from her pre-occupation.
"Where's your Uncle gone?" she enquired, lifting her eyes from their absorbed contemplation of the flaming features of her nephew.
"He's—he's gone to fetch something," lied Millie. Instinctively she felt that this was an occasion that called for anything but the truth. She had seen the unusual brightness of Bindle's eyes.