Mrs. Bindle Part 15

"This is Little Joe," she said softly, the wonder-light of motherhood in her eyes, as she placed one foot on the rail of a chair to support her precious burden, thus releasing her right hand to lift the veil from a red and puckered face, out of which gazed a pair of filmy blue eyes.

"Ooooooosssss." Instinctively Bindle drew a deep breath as he bent a few inches forward.

For fully a minute he stood absorbing all there was to be seen of Joseph the Second.

"'E ain't very big, is 'e?" he enquired, raising his eyes to Millie's.

"He's only six weeks old," snapped Mrs. Bindle, who had followed Millie into the kitchen and now stood, with ill-concealed impatience, whilst Bindle was gazing at the infant. "What did you expect?" she demanded.

"Don't 'e look 'ot?" said Bindle at length, his forehead seamed with anxiety.

"Hot, Uncle Joe?" enquired Millie, unable to keep from her voice a tinge of the displeasure of a mother who hears her offspring criticised.

"I mean 'e don't look strong," he added hastily, conscious that he had said the wrong thing.

"Don't be silly, Uncle Joe, he's just a wee little baby, aren't you, bootiful boy?" and she gazed at the red face in a way that caused Bindle to realise that his niece was now a woman.

"'E's the very spit of 'is old uncle, ain't 'e?" and he turned to Mrs.

Bindle for corroboration.

She ignored the remark; but Millie smiled sympathetically.

"I 'ad a takin' way with me when I was a little 'un," continued Bindle reminiscently. "Why, once I was nearly kissed by a real lady--one with a t.i.tle, too."

"Oh! do tell me, Uncle Joe," cried Millie, looking at him with that odd little lift of the brows, which always made Charley want to kiss her.

She had heard the story a score of times before.

"Well, 'er 'usband was a-tryin' to get into Parliament, an' 'is wife, wot was the lady, came round a-askin' people to vote for 'im. Seein' me in my mother's arms, she says, 'Wot a pretty child.' You see, Millikins, looks was always my strong point," and he paused in the narrative to grin.

"Then she bends down to kiss me," he continued, "an' jest at that moment wot must I go and do but sneeze, an' that's 'ow I missed a kiss an' 'er 'usband a vote."

"Poor Uncle Joe," laughed Millie, making a little motion with her arms towards Mrs. Bindle.

Without a word, Mrs. Bindle took the precious bundle of lace, out of which two filmy eyes gazed vacantly. With a swaying movement she began to croon a meaningless tune, that every now and then seemed as if it might develop into "Gospel Bells"; yet always hesitated on the brink and became diverted into something else.

The baby turned on her a solemn, appraising look of interrogation, then, apparently approving of the tune, settled down comfortably to enjoy it.

Bindle regarded Mrs. Bindle with wonder. Into her eyes had crept a something he had only once seen there before, and that was on the occasion he had brought Millie to Fenton Street when she left home.

Seeing that "Baby" was content, Millie dropped into a chair with a tired little sigh, her eyes fixed upon the precious bundle of lace containing what would one day be a man.

Mrs. Bindle continued to sway and croon in a way that seemed to Little Joe's entire satisfaction.

"Aren't you glad we called him after you, Uncle Joe?" said Millie, tearing her eyes with difficulty from the bundle and turning them upon Bindle.

"Yer aunt told me," he said simply.

"Oh! I do hope he'll grow up like you, Uncle Joe, dear Uncle Joe," she cried, clasping her hands in her earnestness, as if that might help to make good her wish.

"Like me?" There was wonder and incredulity in his voice.

"Charley says he _must_ grow up like you, darling Uncle Joe. You see----" She broke off as Bindle suddenly turned and, without a word, made for the door. A moment later it banged-to behind him arousing Mrs.

Bindle from her pre-occupation.

"Where's your Uncle gone?" she enquired, lifting her eyes from their absorbed contemplation of the flaming features of her nephew.

"He's--he's gone to fetch something," lied Millie. Instinctively she felt that this was an occasion that called for anything but the truth.

She had seen the unusual brightness of Bindle's eyes.

From the pa.s.sage he was heard vigorously blowing his nose.

"It's them toys he's after," said Mrs. Bindle, with scornful conviction.

"Toys?" Millie looked up enquiringly.

"He bought a lot of hideous things for this little precious," and her eyes fell upon the bundle in her arms, her lips breaking into a curve that Bindle had never seen.

"You see, Millie," she continued, "he doesn't know. We've neither chick nor child of----" She broke off suddenly, and bowed her head low over the baby.

In a second Millie was on her feet, her arm round Mrs. Bindle's shoulders.

"Dear Aunt Lizzie!" she cried, her voice a little unsteady. "Darling Aunt Lizzie. I--I know--I----"

At this point Joseph the Second, objecting to the pressure to which he was being subjected between the two emotional bosoms, raised his voice in protest, just as Bindle entered, his arms full of the toys he had bought.

He stood in the doorway, gaping with amazement.

As Mrs. Bindle caught sight of him, she blinked rapidly.

"Don't bring that rubbish in here," she cried with a return to her normal manner. "You'll frighten the child out of its life."

"Oh! Uncle Joe," cried Millie, as Bindle deposited the toys on the table. "I think you're the darlingest uncle in all the world."

There were tears in the eyes she turned on him.

Mrs. Bindle swung her back on the pair, as Bindle proceeded to explain the virtues and mechanism of his purchases. She was convinced that such monstrosities would produce in little Joseph nothing less than convulsions, probably resulting in permanent injury to his mind.

Whilst they were thus engaged, Mrs. Bindle walked up and down the kitchen, absorbed in the baby.

"Auntie Lizzie," cried Millie presently, "please bring Little Joe here."

Mrs. Bindle hesitated. "They'll frighten him, Millie," she said, with a gentleness in her voice that caused Bindle to look quickly up at her.

To disprove the statement, and with all the a.s.surance of a young mother, Millie seized the rag-doll and a diminutive golliwog, and held them over the rec.u.mbent form of Joseph the Second.

In an instant a pudgy little hand was thrust up, followed immediately after by another, and Joseph the Second demonstrated with all his fragile might that, as far as toys were concerned, he was at one with his uncle.

Bindle beamed with delight. Seizing the monkey-on-a-stick he proceeded vigorously to work it up and down. The pudgy hands raised themselves again.