“I feel condemned—I do, indeed, Dot,” sighed Tess. “We ought, at least, to have named those four kittens before we left. They’ll be awfully old before the christening—if we don’t come back at the end of our first two weeks.”
“What could happen to them?” demanded Dot.
“Why—croup—or measles—or chicken-pox. They’re only babies, you know. And if one should die,” added Tess, warmly, “we wouldn’t even know what name to put on its gravestone!”
“My! lots of things can happen in two weeks, I s’pose,” agreed Dot. “Do you think we ought to stay away from home so long?”
“I guess we’ll have to if Ruth and Aggie stay,” said Tess. “But I shall worry.”
Meanwhile Agnes, who sat with her back to the engine beside Ruth, had become interested in a couple sitting together not far down the car. They were strangers—and strangely dressed, as well.
“Oh, Ruth!” Agnes exclaimed, under her breath, “they look like Gypsies.”
“If they are, they are much better dressed than any Gypsies we ever saw before,” observed her sister.
“But how gay!”
This comment was just enough. The older one had shocking taste in millinery. She wore, too, long, pendant ear-rings and her fingers were covered with gaudy looking jewels. Her garments were rich in texture, but oddly made, and the contrasts in color were, as Agnes whispered, “fierce!”