s sight. He
even hated to have me go up to the Davenant house with William Watters.
"Take care of her, William," he would say, and stand looking after us.

William and I got to be very good friends. He was a wise old darky, and
he was devoted to Lady Crusoe. He usually served tea for us out under
the trees, unless it was a rainy day, and then we had it in the library.

It was on a rainy day that Lady Crusoe said: "I wonder what has become
of William. I haven't seen him since you came. I have hunted and called,
and I can't find him."

He appeared at tea time, however, with a plate of hot waffles with
powdered sugar between. When his mistress asked him about his mysterious
disappearance, he said that he had cleaned the attic.

"But, William, on such a day?"

"I kain't wuk out in the rain, Miss Lily, so I wuks in--"

That was all he would say about it, and after we had had our tea, she
said to me, "There are a lot of interesting things in the attic. Let's
go up and see what Willie has been doing--"

The dim old place was as shining as soap and water could make it, and
there was the damp smell of suds. There was the beat of the rain on the
roof, and the splash of it against the round east window. Through the
west window came a pale green light, and there was a view over the
hills. As we became accustomed to the dimness our eyes picked out the
various objects--an old loom like a huge spider under a peaked gable, a
chest of drawers which would have set a collector crazy, Chippendale
chairs with the seats out, Windsor chairs with the backs broken, gilt
mirror frames with no glass in them--boxes--books--bottles--all the
flotsam and jetsam of such old establishments. Most of the things had
been set back against the wall, but right in the middle of the floor was
an object which I took at first for a small trunk.

Lady Crusoe reached it first, and knelt beside it. She gave a little
cry. "My dear, come here!" and I went to her, and in another moment, I,
too, was on my knees. For the dark object was a cradle--a lovely hooded
thing of mahogany, in which the Davenants had been rocked for
generations.

"William got it out," Lady Crusoe said, "ready to be carried down. Oh,
my good old man Friday! Do you mind if I cry a little, you very dear?"

It rained a great deal that summer, and it was hot and humid. Billy and
I longed for the cold winds that sweep across the sea on the North
Shore, but we didn't complain, for we had each