Josephine’s arms went round the gentleman’s neck, and her tears fell freely upon his spotless shirt-front. She had been very brave, she had done what she promised Doctor Mack, and kept a “laughing front” as long as she could; but now here, in the home of her papa’s twin, with her “own folks,” her self-control gave way, and she cried as she had never cried before in all her short and happy life.
Mr. Smith was hopelessly distressed. He didn’t know what to say or do, and this proved most fortunate for both of them. For whatever he might have said would have puzzled his visitor as greatly as she was puzzling him. Happily for both, the deluge of tears was soon over, and Josephine lifted a face on which the smiles seemed all the brighter because of the moisture that still bedewed it.
“Please ’xcuse me, Uncle Joe. I didn’t mean to cry once, but it—it’s so lovely to have you at last. It was a long, long way on the railway, uncle. Rudanthy got terribly tired,” explained the visitor.
“Did she? Who is Rudanthy?”
“You, my uncle, yet don’t know Rudanthy, that has been mine ever since I was? Mamma says she has to change heads now and then, and once in awhile she buys her a new pair of feet or hands; but it’s the same darling dolly, whether her head’s new or old. I’ll fetch her. It’s time she waked up, anyway.”
Josephine sped to the rug before the grate, stooped to lift her playmate, paused, and uttered a terrified cry.
“Uncle! Uncle Joe, come here quick—quick!”
Smiling at his own acquiescence, the gentleman obeyed her demand, and stooped over her as she also bent above the object on the rug. All that was left of poor Rudanthy—who had travelled three thousand miles to be melted into a shapeless mass before the first hearth-fire which received her.
Josephine did not cry now. This was a trouble too deep for tears.
“What ails her, Uncle Joe? I never, never saw her look like that. Her nose and her lips and her checks are all flattened out, and her eyes—her eyes are just round glass balls. Her lovely curls”— The little hands flew to the top of the speaker’s own head, but found no change there. Yet she looked up rather anxiously into the face above her. “Do you s’pose I’d have got to look that dreadful way if I hadn’t waked up when I did, Uncle Joe?”