"Sue says we can't go to bed without saying our prayers," replied Bunny, "and mother isn't here—and—"
He faltered a moment, and it sounded as if he might be going to cry. There was a trace of tears, too, in Sue's eyes, and Mrs. Black, guessing that the children were beginning to feel lonesome and homesick, laughed and said:
"Bless your hearts! I can hear you say your prayers as well as your mother could. I used to have children of my own, but they are grown up now. When they were your size I heard them say their prayers every night. And I've got some night dresses for you, too!"
"You have?" exclaimed Bunny. He wondered where Mrs. Black could get those, when she had no small children of her own.
"I have," said Mrs. Black. "While you were on the porch, watching Bruno do tricks, I went next door and borrowed two clean night dresses for you. They have five children at Mr. Sweeney's."
"Then if we can say our prayers and have night gowns, let's go to bed," proposed Sue. "Mother will come and get us in the morning," she went on.
"Yes, mother will come to-morrow," said Mrs. Black gently.
Soon Bunny and Sue were falling asleep in the big, clean bed, and they did not have to fall very far to get to Slumberland, either, for they were so tired they could hardly hold their eyes open to get undressed.
"I wonder if their mother will come in the morning?" asked Mrs. Black of her husband, as she came out of the spare bedroom and softly closed the door.
"Well, if she doesn't I have thought of a way to get word to her and the father, too," the switchman said.