"Oh, Auntie Lizzie, look," cried Millie. "Little Joe loves Uncle Joe already." The inspiration of motherhood had enabled her to interpret a certain slobbering movement about Little Joe's lips as affection.
"Oh, look!" she cried again, as one chubby little hand was raised as if in salutation. "Auntie Lizzie——" She suddenly broke off. She had caught sight of the tense look on Mrs. Bindle's face as she gazed at the baby, and the hunger in her eyes.
Without a word she seized the bundle from Bindle's arms and placed it in those of her aunt, which instinctively curved themselves to receive the precious burden.
"There, darling Joeykins," she crooned as she bent over her baby's face, as if to shield from Mrs. Bindle any momentary disappointment it might manifest. "Go to Auntie Lizzie."
"'Ere, wot 'ave I——?" began Bindle, when he was interrupted by a knock at the outer door.
"That's Charley," cried Millie, dancing towards the door in a most unmatronly manner. "Come along, Uncle Joe, he's going to mend the musical-box," and with that she tripped down the passage, had opened the door and was greeting her husband almost before Bindle had left the kitchen.
"Come in here," she cried, opening the parlour door, and hardly giving Bindle time to greet Charley.
"'Ere," cried Bindle, "why——?"
"Never mind, Uncle Joe, Charley's going to mend the musical-box."
"But wot about it—'im," Bindle corrected himself, indicating the kitchen with a jerk of his thumb.