he said, settling it on his head.

"Wait a minute, Uncle William." The young man stretched out his hand.
"How did you come to know I needed you?"

Uncle William took the hand in his, patting it slowly. "Why, that was
nateral enough," he said. "When Sergia wrote me, sayin' you was sick--"

"Sergia wrote you?" the young man had turned away his eyes. "She should
not have done it. She had no right--"

"Why not?" said Uncle William. He seated himself by the bed. There
was something keen in the glance of his blue eyes. "You're goin' to be
married, ain't you?"

The head on the pillow turned uneasily. "No--not now."

"Why not?"

"I shall never be able to take care of her."

"Shucks!" said Uncle William. "Let her take care of you, then."

The tears of weakness came into the young man's eyes.

Uncle William's gaze was fixed on space. "You've been foolish," he
said--"turrible foolish. I don't doubt she wants to marry you this
minute."

"She shall not do it." He spoke almost fiercely.