"I do not know," answered her Father—"I do not believe they have got any names. They are very small—so small, that at this moment they are both asleep in the great chair."
"Both asleep in the great chair?" cried Susan, astonished at what her Father had said. "I do believe you have been buying two little monkeys."
"No, I have not," said her Father, laughing.
"Now come with me, and I will show you these strangers, and then see if you will say they are monkeys."
Susan went with her Father. He took her hand, and led her into her Mother's room. The room was dark, and her Mother was lying in the bed. Susan was afraid that she was sick. She went to her and said—
"Dear Mother, are you sick? You look very pale."
Her Mother kissed her, and said, "I am very weak, my dear child; but do you not want to see your little brothers?"
"Brothers?—where?" cried Susan. "Have I a brother?"
"Two of them," said her Father. "Come here, Susan, here they both are, fast asleep."
Susan went up to the great easy chair, and in the seat of it she saw, all tucked up warm, two little round fat faces lying close together. Their noses nearly touched each other, and they looked funny enough.