“As far as us loving you—Well, your Aunty Rose loves you.”
“Oh, I know she does!” agreed Carolyn May, nodding.
“Hum! How do you know that so well, and yet you don’t know that I love you?”
“Oh—well—now,” stammered Carolyn May, “when there isn’t anybody else around but Aunty Rose and me, she tells me so.”
“Hum!” Mr. Stagg cleared his throat. “Well, there isn’t anybody else around here but you and me—and the dog,” and his eyes twinkled; “so I’ll admit, under cross-examination, that I love you.”
“Oh, Uncle Joe!” She bounded at him, sobbing and laughing. “Is it really so? Do you?”
For the first time Joseph Stagg lifted her upon his knee. She snuggled up against his vest and put one little arm around his neck—as far as it would go.
“Dear Uncle Joe!” she sighed ecstatically. “I don’t mind if I am charity. If you love me, it takes all the sting out. And I’ll help to make you happy, too!”
“Bless me, child!” came huskily, “ain’t I happy enough?”
“Why, Uncle Joe, I don’t believe you can be really and truly happy, when you are always worrying about business. You don’t ever seem to have time to look up and see the sky, or stop to hear the birds sing.