back swiftly. A gray avalanche had descended upon him.
She clawed at his shoulder and perched there, looking down at him.

A smile overspread Uncle William's face. He put up a hand to the gray
fur, stroking it. "Now, don't that beat all!" he said. "She's been here
all along, like enough, Andy."

"Durned if I know," said Andy. He looked at her aggressively. "I hain't
seen hide nor hair of her for two weeks."

Juno returned the look, purring indifferently. She leaped from Uncle
William's shoulder, leading the way into the house, her back arched and
her tail erect; her toes scarcely touched the boards she trod upon.

She disappeared under the red lounge. In a moment her head
reappeared--with something dangling from the mouth. She laid it proudly
at Uncle William's feet.

He peered at it. "Ketched a mouse, hev ye? I reckoned she wouldn't
starve, Andy!" He beamed on him.

"That ain't a mouse," said Andy.

"Why, so 't ain't. Juno!" Uncle William's voice was stern. "You come
here!"

Juno came--with another. She laid it at his feet and departed for a
third. By the time the fifth was deposited before him, Uncle William
said feebly: "That's enough for this time, Juno. Don't you do no more."

She added one more to the wriggling row, and seated herself calmly
beside it, looking up for approval.

Uncle William glared at her for a minute. Then a sunny smile broke his
face. "That's all right, Juno." He bent and stroked the impassive head.
"I was prepared to mourn for ye, if need be, but not to rejoice--not to
this extent. But it's all right." Juno purred in proud content.

XX

It was fortunate that the artist was better, for Uncle William became
lost in the kittens and their welfare. The weakest thing at hand claimed
his interest. He carried them in a clam-basket from point to point,
seeing the best spots for their comfort and development. Juno marched at
his side, proud and happy. She purred approval of the universe and the
ways of man. Wherever Uncle William deposited the basket, she took up
her abode, serenely pleased; and when, a few hours later, he shifted it
on account of wind or rain or sun, she followed without demur. For her
the sun rose and set in Uncle William's round face and the depths of the
clam-basket.

The artist watched the comedy with amused disapproval. He suspected
Uncle William of trifling away the time. The spring was fairly upon
them, and the _Andrew Halloran_ still swung at anchor alone a