She sat down on the steps of the porch laughing and yet regarding Tom with a half sympathetic, half curious look. It was not the first time she had found him unexpectedly mysterious. "Where's the father?" she said. "Didn't he care for the poor little thing at all? The Judge heard that he was so poor that he couldn't take care of it. Hadn't he any friends? It has a kind of heartless sound to me--his going away that way." "He was poor," said Tom, quietly. "And he had no relatives who could take the child. He didn't know what to do with it. I--I think he had a chance of making a living out West and--the blow seemed to have stunned him." "And you took the baby?" put in Mrs. Rutherford. "Yes," Tom answered, "I took the baby." "Is it a pretty baby?" "Yes," said Tom, "I think it is." Just then the Judge's mother came out and he was called upon to tell the story again, when it was received with interest even more excited and wondering than before. The older Mrs. Rutherford exclaimed and looked dubious alternately. "Are you sure you know what to do with it?" she asked. "Well, no," said Tom, "I'm not. I suppose I shall have to educate myself up to it gradually. There'll be a good deal to learn, I suppose." But he did not appear at all discouraged, and presently broached the object of his visit, displaying such modest readiness to accept advice and avail himself of all opportunities for acquiring valuable information, that his young hostess was aroused to the deepest admiration, and when he proceeded to produce quite a large memorandum book with a view to taking an immediate list of all required articles, and established rules, she could scarcely contain her delight. "I want to do it all up in the proper way," he said. Thereupon he was borne into the house and a consultation of the most serious practical nature was held. Piles of the last baby's pretty garments being produced to illustrate any obscure point. The sight of those garments with their embroidery and many frills fired Tom with new enthusiasm. He could not resist the temptation to pick up one after another of the prettiest and most elaborate and hold them out at arm's length, his fingers stuck through the sleeves the better to survey and display them to advantage. "Yes," he kept saying, "that's the kind of thing she wants--pretty and with plenty of frills." He seemed to set his heart especially upon this abundance of frills and kept it in view throughout the entire arrangements. Little Mrs. Rutherford was to take charge of the matter, purchasing all necessaries and superintending the work of placing it in competent hands. "Why," she said, laughing at him delightedly, "she'll be the best dressed baby in the county." "I'd like her to be among the best," said Tom, with a grave face, "among the best." Whereupon Mrs. Rutherford laughed a little again, and then quite suddenly stopped and regarded him for a moment with some thoughtfulness.