That Peter boy is so dreadful stupid, like's not he'll forget to say a single word about us. Never mind. He's my papa's twin brother. Do you know what twins are, Rudanthy? I do. Big Bridget's sister's got a pair of them. They're two of a kind, though sometimes one of them is the other kind. I mean, you know, sometimes one twin isn't a brother, it's a sister. That's what big Bridget's sister's was. Oh, dear. I'm tired. I'm hungry. I liked it better on that nice first railway car where everybody took care of me and gave me sweeties. It's terrible still here. I—I'm afraid I'm going to sleep."
In another moment the fear of the weary little traveller had become a fact. Rudanthy was already slumbering; and, alas! that was to prove the last of her many naps. But Josephine was unconscious of the grief awaiting her own awakening; and, fortunately, too young to know what a different welcome should have been accorded herself by the relative she had come so far to visit.
Peter peeped in, from time to time, found
