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“Don’t loiter, Josephine. If we don’t get to table promptly we’ll miss our seats. Hurry, please.”

“Are you one of the selfish-hungry ones, Mrs. Red Kimono?”

The lady flushed, and was about to make an indignant reply, but reflected that indignation would be wasted on such a little person as this.

“It may be that I am, child. Certainly I am hungry, and so should you be. I don’t remember seeing you at supper last night.”

“I had my supper with Doctor Mack before we started. Oh, he was nice to me that time. He gave me turkey and mince-pie, and—and everything that was on the bill of fare that I wanted, so’s I wouldn’t cry. He said I’d be sick, but he didn’t mind that so long as I didn’t cry. He hates crying people, Doctor Mack does. He likes mamma ’cause she’s so brave. Once my papa was a soldier, and he’s a Company F man now; but most he’s a ’lectrickeller, and has to go away to the funny pickle place to earn the money for mamma and me. So then she and me never cry once. We just keep on laughing like we didn’t mind, even if we do hate to say good-by to papa for so long a while. I said I wouldn’t cry, not on all this car ride; never, not at all. I—maybe I forgot, though. Did I cry last night, Mrs. Red Kimono?”