For many reasons—the climate, the uncertainty—I am going to send you East to your Uncle Joe's; the uncle for whom you were named, your father's twin brother. Do you understand me, dear?"
"Yes, mamma. You are going to papa, and I am going to Uncle Joe. Who is going with me there?"
"Nobody, darling. There is nobody who can go. We have no relatives here, except our doctor cousin, and he is too busy. So we are going to send you by express. It is a safe way, though a lonely one, and—Oh, my darling, my darling; how can I! how can I!"
Ever since papa had gone, so long ago, Josephine had had to comfort mamma. She did so now, smoothing the tear-wet cheek with her fat little hand, and chattering away about the things Bridget had put in her trunk.
"But she mustn't pack Rudanthy. I can't have her all smothered up. I will take Rudanthy in my arms. She is so little and so sweet."
"So little and so sweet!" echoed the mother's
