not allow me at table, I guess; I'm dreadful dirty."
If Josephine had tried to find the shortest way to Mr. Smith's heart she could not have chosen more wisely.
"To be sure, to be sure. Peter, make a bath ready next the guest room. Will an hour give you time enough, little lady?"
"I don't want so long. I'm so glad I learned to dress myself, aren't you? 'Cause all the women to this house seem to be men, don't they?"
"Yes, child. Poor, unfortunate house!"
"It's a beautiful house, Uncle Joe; and you needn't care any more. I've come, now. I, Josephine. I'll take care of you. Good-by. When you see me again I'll be looking lovely, 'cause I'll put on the new white wool dress that mamma embroidered with forget-me-nots."
"Vanity!" thought Mr. Smith, regretfully, which shows that he didn't as yet understand his little visitor, whose "lovely" referred to her clothes alone, and not at all to herself.
