some curiosity to see how
Margaret bore the unexpected addition to her family. Billy's voice,
raised with excitement, was plainly audible. She could see Elnora
holding him, and hear his excited wail. Wesley's face was drawn and
haggard, and Margaret's set and defiant. A very imp of perversity
entered the breast of Mrs. Comstock.

"Hoity, toity!" she said as she suddenly appeared in the door. "Blest if
I ever heard a man making sounds like that before!"

Billy ceased suddenly. Mrs. Comstock was tall, angular, and her hair was
prematurely white. She was only thirty-six, although she appeared fifty.
But there was an expression on her usually cold face that was attractive
just then, and Billy was in search of attractions.

"Have I stayed too late, mother?" asked Elnora anxiously. "I truly
intended to come straight back, but I thought I could rock Billy to
sleep first. Everything is strange, and he's so nervous."

"Is that your ma?" demanded Billy.

"Yes."

"Does she love you?"

"Of course!"

"My mother didn't love me," said Billy. "She went away and left me, and
never came back. She don't care what happens to me. You wouldn't go away
and leave your little girl, would you?" questioned Billy.

"No," said Katharine Comstock, "and I wouldn't leave a little boy,
either."

Billy began sliding from Elnora's knees.

"Do you like boys?" he questioned.

"If there is anything I love it is a boy," said Mrs. Comstock
assuringly. Billy was on the floor.

"Do you like dogs?"

"Yes. Almost as well as boys. I am going to buy a dog as soon as I can
find a good one."

Billy swept toward her with a whoop.

"Do you want a boy?" he shouted.

Katharine Comstock stretched out her arms, and gathered him in.

"Of course, I want a boy!" she rejoiced.

"Maybe you'd like to have me?" offered Billy.

"Sure I would," triumphed Mrs. Comstock. "Any one would like to have
you. You are just a real boy, Billy."

"Will you take Snap?"

"I'd like to have Snap almost as well as you."

"Mother!" breathed Elnora imploringly. "Don't! Oh, don't! He thinks you
mean it!"

"And so I do mean it," said Mrs. Comstock. "I'll take him in a jiffy. I
throw away enough to feed a little tyke like him every day. His chatter
would be great company while you are gone. Blood soon can be purified
with right food and baths, and as for Snap, I meant to buy a bulldog,
but possibly Snap will serve just as well. All I ask of a dog is to bark
at the right