"You may think that now, but you'll change your mind when you see her," said Mickey. "Dearest lady, when you see a little white girl that hasn't ever walked, smiling up at you shy and timid, you won't be any more anxious for Orphings' Homes and Charity Palaces to swallow her up than I am; not a bit! All I must think of is what Lily will say about coming. She's never been out of my room since I found her, and she hasn't seen any one but Mr. Bruce, so she'll be afraid, and worried. _Seeing her_ is all I ask of _you!_ What I'm up against is what she's going to say; and how I'm going to take her _back_ after a week here, when it will be hotter there and lonesomer than ever." "You surely give one things to think about," commented the woman. "Do I?" queried Mickey. "Well I don't know as I should. Probably with Peter, and three children of your own, and this farm to run, you are busy enough without spending any of your time on me." "The command in the good book is plain: 'Bear ye one another's burdens,'" quoted the woman. "Oh yes! 'Burdens,' of course!" agreed Mickey. "But that couldn't mean Lily, 'cause she's nothing but joy! Just pure joy! All about her is that a fellow loves her so, that it keeps him laying awake at nights thinking how to do what would be _best_ for her. She's mine, and I'm going to _keep_ her; that's the surest thing you know. If I take you to see Lily, and if I decide to let you have her a few days to rest her and fresh her up, you wouldn't go and want to put her 'mong the Orphings' Home kids, would you? You wouldn't think she ought to be took from me and raised in a flock of every kind, from every place. Would you lady?" "No, I wouldn't," said the lady. "I see how you feel, and I am sure I wouldn't want that for one of mine." "Well, there's no question about her being _mine!_" said Mickey. "But I like you so, maybe I'll let you _help_ me a _little_. A big boy that can run and play doesn't need you, dearest lady, half so much as my little girl. Do you think he does?" "No, I think the Lord sent you straight here. If you don't stop I'll be so worked up I can't rest. I may come to-morrow." Mickey arose, holding out his hand. "Thank you dearest lady," he said. "I must be getting out where the car won't pass without my seeing it." "You wait at the gate a minute," she said, "I want to send in a little basket of things to-night. I'll have it ready in a jiffy." Mickey slowly walked to the gate. When the woman came with a basket covered with a white cloth, he thanked her again; as he took it he rested his head against her arm, smiling up at her with his wide true eyes. "A thing I can't understand is," he said, "why when the Lord was making mothers, he didn't cut all of them from the same piece he did you. I'll just walk on down the road and smell June beside this clover field. Is it yours?" "Yes," she said. "Would you care if I'd take just a few to Lily? I know she never saw any."