Fascinated by this unusual object, she clutched at it with both hands, gave a crow of delight, and began jerking up and down on his knee as if riding on a hobby-horse, treating Gilbert's beard as its mane. Next spying the puppy on the floor, she stiffened herself and prepared to slide down to him.

"All right," crooned Gilbert. "Let's see if the little lammy can stand? Yes, but not so very well," he added, as, after taking a single step, she doubled up and almost sat on the pup.

"Now we'll sit her on the lounge to play with doggy, while daddy gets her bed fixed."

The word "daddy" slipped from his lips unconsciously, as he pulled the high-backed sofa out from the wall and propped the child up with some husk pillows and a comforter. Then he stole across to the bedroom where, after choosing a key from the chain that was fastened to his pocket, he unlocked a high chest of drawers still keeping his eye on the lounge and its occupants.

"She's somewhere about a year, I reckon," he said, talking to himself, after the fashion of those who are much alone. "She's bigger than Marygold was at fourteen months, but not so clever on her feet. As for talking, they're something alike; Marygold only said 'Daddy' and 'Puss,' and I guess I can piece out some words from what she says when I get the time. Wow-wow means dog plain enough. I must get her undressed before 'Lisha comes back; he's all right, but too rough in his ways for handling a lady baby, and that's what the little one is."

Having taken some clothes from the drawers,—a pair of knitted socks, a little night-dress of yellow shaker flannel, and a quilted wrapper in gay-flowered print, all smelling of camphor and their long, pent-up years in the chest,—he spread them on a chair by the stove to air and warm.

Meanwhile, the child had nestled back among the pillows and was half dozing, the puppy clasped tight in her arms. Going once more to the bedroom, Gilbert stood a moment before the quaint hooded cradle, made up ready for occupancy from spread to pilch, the cradle from out of which he himself had gazed alternately at the leaves on the wall paper and the leaves against the sky, dreaming in knowledge after the manner of babies. Then lifting the cradle, he carried it into the kitchen, negotiating the doorway with difficulty, for his burden was heavy and the rockers wide of angle to prevent the overthrow of the occupant. Pushing his hand between the sheets and finding them clammy to the touch, he pulled them off and brought others from the inexhaustible chest.

Then came the undressing of the lady baby herself, which was done as dexterously as a woman might, for Gilbert's fingers, used to the handling of mere specks of machinery, did not fumble with strings, buttons, or the intricacies of shield pins. Moreover, memory crept into his finger-tips and guided the almost-forgotten task, even as feet that once have trodden a daily path, returning to it in the dark, after the lapse of a lifetime, follow each rise and fall.

Piling the clothes she had worn upon the table, he held the little feet in his big, rough palm, warming them, rocking gently the while. With a sleepy friendliness, the child nestled to him; then, twisting as though something pressed uncomfortably on her flesh, pushing her hand into the neck of the knitted shirt that Gilbert had left on for extra warmth, she began tugging at something, looking into his face and patting his hand as if to ask his help.

"What is it, lammy? A tight string that chokes? Let daddy feel."

Drawing up a chain of intricate links, his fingers closed upon a thin locket or watch, he could not tell which, as it would not open. He unfastened the chain and put it with the heap of clothes, as the door opened and 'Lisha, fairly blue with the cold, some of which rushed in with him, returned with the milk. The trip from the Brooks farm had cooled it sufficiently to make it palatable and this time the child took a long drink, sighing with satisfaction when she paused for breath, with her four tiny teeth clenched on the thick china cup to prevent its being taken away.

Then with unmistakable gestures, she asked that the puppy might also have some. She sat blinking and keeping her eyes open with difficulty watching until his little elastic stomach began to grow heavy, and rummaging a bit of carpet into a sort of nest, he settled for the night, half under the stove. This did not suit the lady baby; she wished to hold the puppy and began to show a decided bit of temper, until Gilbert, lifting her from the lounge, carried her on his shoulder to the bedroom, saying, "Hold crying a minute, lammy, 'til daddy sees what he can find in the drawer. Yes, I thought it was here;" and the child, hugging a rag doll flat faced and faded, allowed herself to be tucked into the cradle without a murmur, and fell into natural sleep, the deep hood of the cradle completely shutting off the light.

'Lisha gave a sigh of relief that was almost tragic. "She's safe off to sleep and we ain't dropped her, nor broke her, thank the Lord! Well, Gilbert, what do you think?" and the giant, spreading his hands behind him, backed toward the stove.

"Think? Why, I reckon, after Marygold, she's the sweetest little one I ever set eyes on, and in some ways she's remarkably like her, 'specially the way she sets her chin,—"

"Great snakes! I don't mean that," snorted 'Lisha. "How do you think she come here? Who brought her and why? Don't it strike you as anything unusual that a child of her age, all togged out fine, should be left on a porch in the middle of a perishing cold night?"

"Of course, of course, 'Lisha, it's unusual, and I reckon that's half the reason that I've been in a daze ever since; that, and feeling something warm and small on my knee. Now she's safe and asleep, it's our duty to investigate and let her people know her whereabouts soon as I've made up the morning mail. Draw up to the table and we'll find if there's any marks on her clothes.

"To my thinking, it's a case of kidnapping," Gilbert continued, "either for money, or perhaps spite. Even parents do queer things to outface each other sometimes. Oh, you needn't shake your head, I know; there's a chance to see a deal of life in a post-office.

"Whoever was making away with the lady baby likely got scared, or was sorry for the job, so left her here in a public place where she'd be soon found."

"Where'd they come from last?" persisted 'Lisha, but received no answer, as Gilbert was examining each garment, fingering them carefully, inch by inch, and though 'Lisha did likewise, no marks of any sort, not even an embroidered initial, could they discover.

The large locket of heavily chased gold, the pattern much worn on the sides, after many efforts at prying, at last flew open, purely by accident when its secret spring was touched. Within, the picture of a young woman seemed to look so directly in their faces, that both men exclaimed. The face was that of a girl of eighteen or nineteen. Dark brows and lashes guarded large hazel eyes, the nose was a trifle tip-tilted, and this, together with the parted lips, gave the impression that she was about to speak, while a very firm chin lent decision to the youthful roundness of the face. Exquisitely shaded hair, in tints of gold, copper, and ash, curved back from the broad forehead, and was loosely braided and coiled about the small head, while resting lightly, half sidewise on the braids, was a wreath of poppies, not the flaming oriental flowers that suggest sensuous drowsiness, but delicate, rosy-flushed blossoms with petals frail as the wings of a night moth.

The two men did not analyze the face that looked frankly into theirs, they only knew that it was beautiful. Presently, the light caught upon the inside of the cover of the locket showing, imperfectly, letters engraved thereon.

"Get me my watch-glass from the work bench," said Gilbert, his hands trembling with expectation. But this revealed only a single word and date,—"Poppea—1850."