as. Now
what does this overwhelming body of evidence establish? It establishes
just one thing, and that thing it establishes beyond any peradventure
whatever. Friends, we would not have it known for the world, and I must
beg you to keep it strictly to yourselves, but the truth is, we are no
more twins than you are."

The two old ladies were stunned, paralyzed-petrified, one may almost say
--and could only sit and gaze vacantly at each other for some moments;
then Aunt Betsy Hale said impressively:

"There's no getting around proof like that. I do believe it's the most
amazing thing I ever heard of." She sat silent a moment or two and
breathing hard with excitement, then she looked up and surveyed the
strangers steadfastly a little while, and added: "Well, it does beat me,
but I would have took you for twins anywhere."

"So would I, so would I," said Aunt Patsy with the emphasis of a
certainty that is not impaired by any shade of doubt.

"Anybody would-anybody in the world, I don't care who he is," said Aunt
Betsy with decision.

"You won't tell," said Luigi, appealingly.

"Oh, dear, no!" answered both ladies promptly, "you can trust us, don't
you be afraid."

"That is good of you, and kind. Never let on; treat us always as if we
were twins."

"You can depend on us," said Aunt Betsy, "but it won't be easy, because
now that I know you ain't you don't seem so."

Luigi muttered to himself with satisfaction: "That swindle has gone
through without change of cars."

It was not very kind of him to load the poor things up with a secret like
that, which would be always flying to their tongues' ends every time they
heard any one speak of the strangers as twins, and would become harder
and harder to hang on to with every recurrence of the temptation to tell
it, while the torture of retaining it would increase with every new
strain that was applied; but he never thought of that, and probably would
not have worried much about it if he had.

A visitor was announced--some one to see the twins. They withdrew to the
parlor, and the two old ladies began to discuss with interest the strange
things which they had been listening to. When they had finished the
matter to their satisfaction, and Aunt Betsy rose to go, she stopped to
ask a question:

"How does things come on between Roweny and Tom Driscoll?"

"Well, about the same. He writes tolerable often, and she answers
tolerable seldom."

"Where is he?"

"In St