Well, the next morning came. Very early I found myself aroused by Mary's nurse, old Hannah, who was stepping softly about the room. Then little Mary woke up, and hurrying out of bed as fast as she could, the child began to dress herself. In about an hour, Mary had gone to her grandmother's bed, and had said good-bye, and we were down in the big dining-room, getting an early breakfast.
After that came a drive in a carriage, then a meeting in a big, big building with Mary's parents.
It was a very joyful time, but dreadfully confused. I stared in dismay at the groups of people. Some were standing quietly, other men and women were rushing to and fro as if they had just lost their pet cat, and were trying to find her. Fortunately, my dull eye wandering about in quest of more friends fell on Mona.
I slipped from Mary's arms, and ran up to her. “How do you do, dear Mona? I am so glad to see you. Do tell me what this great building is. Why, I should think it would cover the whole of Beacon Hill.”
“This is a railway station, Black-Face,” she said kindly. “See Anthony over there buying the tickets. Are you coming in the baggage car with me?”
“I don't know what a baggage car is,” I replied.
“Do you see those long things over there?”
“Those funny little houses on wheels?” I asked.
“Yes—those are railway cars. Some are for men and women, some for animals, some for other things. Here is Anthony.”
The young man at this moment approached Mr. and Mrs. Denville. Touching his cap, he put some pieces of paper in their hands. Then he came up to Mona, and fastened something on her neck.