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“Why, it seems as if there was nothing in this world but just to say ‘Good-by!’” cried Jessica, tearfully, when the hour came for baby and its mother to leave the “Arizona.”

“Never mind, dearie, you’ve made it a pleasant trip for me, and it’s a little world. We may meet again; but if we don’t, just you keep on shedding sunshine and you’ll never be sad for long,” said the invalid, herself grieved to part with the little Californian yet grateful to have reached her own home alive.

Then almost before she knew it, the week-long trip had ended. The train steamed into the great station in Jersey City, those who had come “all the way across” gathered their belongings, submitted to be brushed and freshened from the stains of the long trip, hurriedly bade one another good-by and were gone. Even Mrs. Moriarty had time for but a single hug and the bestowal of a whole mint drop ere she was captured by a red-faced Irishwoman in a redder bonnet, who called her “Cousin Dalia,” and bore her away through the crowd toward that waiting steamer which should carry her onward to her beloved Ireland.