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CHAPTER V.
A WILD MARCH MORNING.
Josephine was half-asleep. A woman
would have thought about her fatigue and sent
her early to bed. "Uncle Joe" thought of
nothing now save the array of common and
uncommon names in the city directory. He
counted and recounted the "Smiths," "Smyths,"
and "Smythes," and jotted down his figures in
a notebook. He copied, also, any address of
any Smith whose residence was in a locality
which he considered suitable for relatives of his
small guest. He became so absorbed in this
study that an hour had passed before he remembered
her, and the extraordinary quiet of
her lively tongue.
Josephine had dozed and waked, dozed and waked, and dreamed many dreams during that hour of silence. Her tired little brain was all
