“I guess I’ll just let you alone. You women like to make yourselves miserable sometimes,” he said philosophically; and laying his head down on the pillow, he was soon asleep.
CHAPTER IV.
THE REST OF THE CATS.
Eugene had faithfully promised the sergeant that he would go for a walk in the park the next morning, and there the sergeant accordingly met him at eleven o’clock.
The boy was strolling along the southern part of the Fens; and as he halted near the Agassiz bridge, the sergeant caught up with him.
“Good-morning,” he said cheerily. “Where’s your nurse with the good name to-day?”
“Good-morning,” said Eugene with a bright look at him. “Virtue Ann had sweeping to do; and she says that I am now sufficiently old to go out unattended, though it is not the custom to do so in my country until one is older.”
“You’re big enough to go alone,” said the sergeant. “We think here that it makes a mollycoddle of a boy to have some one at his heels watching him all the time. Have you paid your respects to John O’Reilly this morning?”
“No; I have just arrived from home. I shall go there later.”