"Some of them," assented the artist.

The old man looked up with a swift twinkle. "So-o?" he said.

The artist sat up quickly. The locket swayed on its chain and his hand
touched it. "What do you mean?" he said.

"Why, nuthin', nuthin'," said Uncle William, soothingly. "Only I thought
you was occupied with art and so on--"?

"I am."

Uncle William said nothing.

Presently the artist leaned forward. "Do you want to see her?" he said.
He was holding it out.

Uncle William peered at it uncertainly. He rose and took down the
spectacles from behind the clock and placed them on his nose. Then he
reached out his great hand for the locket. The quizzical humor had gone
from his face. It was full of gentleness.

Without a word the artist laid the locket in his hand.

The light swung down from the lamp on it, touching the dark face. The
old man studied it thoughtfully. On the stove the kettle had begun to
hum. Its gentle sighing filled the room. The artist dreamed.

Uncle William pushed up his spectacles and regarded him with a satisfied
look. "You've had a good deal more sense'n I was afraid you'd have," he