e, that had worked out of my pocket. And glad enough I was to grab it
up before anybody saw it, and say I must have been dreaming.

MRS. ROBERTS. Why, aunty, how funny! How _could_ you suppose a serpent
could get on board a sleeping-car, of all places in the world!

AUNT MARY. That was the perfect absurdity of it.

THE PORTER. Berths ready now, ladies.

MRS. ROBERTS (to THE PORTER, who walks away to the end of the car, and
sits down near the door). Oh, thank you. Aunty, do you feel nervous the
least bit?

AUNT MARY. Nervous? No. Why?

MRS. ROBERTS. Well, I don't know. I suppose I've been worked up a
little about meeting Willis, and wondering how he'll look, and all. We
can't _know_ each other, of course. It doesn't stand to reason that if
he's been out there for twelve years, ever since I was a child, though
we've corresponded regularly--at least _I_ have--that he could recognize
me; not at the first glance, you know. He'll have a full beard; and then
I've got married, and here's the baby. Oh, _no_! he'll never guess who
it is in the world. Photographs really amount to nothing in such a case.
I wish we were at home, and it was all over. I wish he had written some
particulars, instead of telegraphing from Ogden, "Be with you on the 7
A.M., Wednesday."

AUNT MARY. Californians always telegraph, my dear; they never think of
writing. It isn't expensive enough, and it doesn't make your blood run
cold enough to get a letter, and so they send you one of those miserable
yellow despatches whenever they can--those printed in a long string, if
possible, so that you'll be _sure_ to die before you get to the end of
it. I suppose your brother has fallen into all those ways, and says
"reckon" and "ornary" and "which the same," just like one of Mr. Bret
Harte's characters.

MRS. ROBERTS. But it isn't exactly our not knowing each other, aunty,
that's worrying me; that's something that could be got over in time. What
is simply driving me distracted is Willis and Edward meeting there when
I'm away from home. Oh, how _could_ I be away! and why _couldn't_ Willis
have given us fair warning? I would have hurried from the ends of the
earth to meet him. I don't believe poor Edward ever saw a Californian;
and he's so quiet and preoccupied, I'm sure he'd never get on with
Willis. And if Willis is the least loud, he wouldn't like Edward. Not
that I suppose he _is_ loud; but I don't believe he knows anything abou