“I don’t know why,” said Uncle William, “I reckon I can take all the care she needs—She don’t need any entertainin’.” He gazed at her fondly and chucked her a little. “She has to be fed,” said Sergia. “I’ll tend to feedin’ her myself,” said Uncle William, “Nobody ever starved—to my house. You got a little bunnet for her somewheres?” He put his big hand on the shining head. Sergia looked at them reflectively. “She has to have special milk, you know—?” “I get mine to Andy’s,” said Uncle William. “It’s just as special as any, ain’t it—Andy’s milk?” Sergia smiled a little. “It isn’t that—It has to be prepared—sterilized, you know.” Uncle William looked at her sympathetically—“Now, that’s too bad—and she looks so healthy, too!” He held her off, and looked at her, and danced her a little as an experiment—and broke her all up into little laughs.... He chuckled softly. “I reckon I’ll hev to take her,” he said. “We-l-l—” Sergia went slowly toward the kitchen and returned with a bottle in each hand. “I’m going to let you take her,” she said magnanimously. She laid the bottles on the table and brought the little bonnet and put it on, patting it and talking little, foolish words to it—“There!” She stood off and looked at them, doubtfully. “You must feed her as soon as you get there, and then again in three hours.” She held out the bottles. “Yes’m.” Uncle William stored a bottle in either pocket—where they would balance—and started toward the door. “You must bring her back before dinner, you know.” She was following them protectingly, “—and I think I’ll come down by and by,” she added. Uncle William turned and laid a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t you worry a mite, Sergia—There’s me and Celia to take care of her and we’re goin’ to hev the best time ’t ever was—The’ can’t anything happen to her—not whilst I’m round.” He strode proudly out of the door and over the rocks, the little figure riding on his arm. The wind blowing softly across the Island touched the small figure, and Uncle William snuggled it down in his arm, covering it with a great hand. The head nestled to him and drowsed a little and fell asleep. Uncle William came in the door with hushed step.... “Sh-h—?” he said. He held up a warning finger. Celia stopped singing and came over and peeked at it. “Isn’t she a dear!” She held out inviting arms. But Uncle William, proud in possession, marched across to the red lounge and sat down. “Aren’t you going to put her down?” whispered Celia. Uncle William shook his head. “Not yet.” He sat very quiet and the fire crackled in the stove—with the kettle humming a little—and leaving off and beginning again.... Juno came across and leaped up. She rubbed against him and waited a minute—then she purred towards his knee. Uncle William watched her benignantly, holding very still.