"Humph!" remarked the lady, with so much emphasis that Budge ceased
talking. A moment later she said:--

"I didn't mean to interrupt you, little boy; go on."

"An' he rides with just the loveliest lady that ever was. HE thinks so,
an' _I_ KNOW she is. An' he 'spects her."

"What?" exclaimed the old lady.

"--'Spects her, I say--that's what HE says. _I_ say 'spects means just
what _I_ call LOVE. Cos if it don't, what makes him give her hugs and
kisses?"

Mrs. Mayton caught her breath, and did not reply for a moment. At last
she said:--

"How do you know he--gives her hugs and kisses?"

"Cos I saw him, the day Toddie hurt his finger in the grass-cutter. An'
he was so happy that be bought me a goat-carriage next morning--I'll
show it to you if you come down to our stable, an' I'll show you the
goat too. An' he bought--"

Just here Budge stopped, for Mrs. Mayton put her handkerchief to her
eyes. Two or three moments later she felt a light touch on her knee,
and, wiping her eyes, saw Budge looking sympathetically into her face.

"I'm awful sorry you feel bad," said he.

"Are you 'fraid to have your little girl ridin' so long?"

"Yes!" exclaimed Mrs. Mayton, with great decision.

"Well, you needn't be," said Budge, "for Uncle Harry's awful careful
an' smart."

"He ought to be ashamed of himself!" exclaimed the lady.

"I guess he is, then," said Budge, "cos he's ev'rything he ought to be.
He's awful careful. T'other day, when the goat ran away, an' Toddie an'
me got in the carriage with them, he held on to her tight, so she
couldn't fall out."

Mrs. Mayton brought her foot down with a violent stamp.

"I know you'd 'spect HIM, if you knew how nice he was," continued
Budge. "He sings awful funny songs, an' tells splendid stories."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the angry mother.

"They ain't no nonsense at all," said Budge. "I don't think it's nice
for to say that, when his stories are always about Joseph, an' Abraham,
an' Moses, an' when Jesus was a little boy, an' the Hebrew children,
an' lots of people that the Lord loved. An' he's awful 'fectionate,
too."

"Yes, I suppose so," said Mrs. Mayton.

"When we says our prayers we prays for the nice lady what he 'spects,
an' he likes us to do it," continued Budge.

"How do you know?" demanded Mrs. Mayton.

"Cos he always kisses us when we do it, an' that's what my papa does
when he likes what we pray."

Mrs. Mayton's mind became absorbed in earnest thought,