"I'll sit here awhile," he said. "The smoke might be too much for her,
and the paper rustles so. We'd better let her have her sleep out."

But when the pipe was out and the last page of the paper read, he went
back to his own room. The small ark stranded in his chimney corner was
attractive enough to draw him there. It was a stronger attraction than it
would have been to most men. He had always been fond of children and
curious concerning them. There was not a child in the surrounding region
who had not some remembrance of his rather too lavish good-nature. A
visit to the Cross-roads was often held out as a reward for circumspect
behaviour, and the being denied the treat was considered punishment heavy
enough for most juvenile crimes.

"Ef ye'd had young uns of yer own, Tom, ye'd hev ruined them, shore," the
secretly delighted matrons frequently remarked. "You'd let 'em run right
over ye. I reckon ye keep that candy thar right a-purpose to feed 'em on
now, don't yer?"

His numerous admirers, whose affection for him was founded on their
enjoyment of his ponderous witticisms and the humour which was the little
leavening of their unexciting lives, had once or twice during the past
few days found themselves unprepared for, and so somewhat bewildered by,
the new mood which had now and then revealed itself.

"It's kinder outer Tom's way to take things like he takes this; it looks
onnat'ral," they said.

If they had seen him as he drew up to the cradle's side, they would have
discovered that they were confronting a side of the man of which they
knew nothing. It was the man whose youth had been sore-hearted and
desolate, while he had been too humble to realise that it was so, and
with reason. If he had known lonely hours in the past eight years, only
the four walls of the little back room had seen them. He had always
enacted his _role_ well outside; but it was only natural that the three
silent rooms must have seemed too empty now and again. As he bent over
the cradle, he remembered such times, and somehow felt as if they were
altogether things of the past and not to trouble him again.

"She'll be life in the place," he said. "When she sleeps less and is old
enough to make more noise, it will be quite cheerful."

He spoke with the self-congratulating innocence of inexperience. A
speculative smile settled upon his countenance.

"When she begins to crawl around and--and needs looking after, it will be
lively enough," he r