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THE CALIFORNIAN
(solemnly). I haven’t got any baby, ma’am.

MRS. ROBERTS: No–no–I thought you were my baby.

THE CALIFORNIAN: Perhaps I am, ma’am; I’ve lost so much sleep I could cry, anyway. Do I look like your baby?

MRS. ROBERTS: No, no, you don’t. [In distress that overcomes her mortification.] Oh, where is my baby? I left him all uncovered, and he’ll take his death of cold, even if he doesn’t roll out. Oh, Edward, Edward, help me to find baby!

MR. ROBERTS
(bustling aimlessly about). Yes, yes; certainly, my dear. But don’t be alarmed; we shall find him.

THE CALIFORNIAN
(getting out in his stocking feet). We shall find him, ma’am, if we have to search every berth in this car. Don’t you take on. That baby’s going to be found if he’s aboard the train, now, you bet! [He looks about and then tears open the curtains of a berth at random.] That your baby, ma’am?

MRS. ROBERTS
(flying upon the infant thus exposed). Oh, baby, baby, baby!! I thought I had lost you. Um! um! um!

[She clasps him in her arms, and covers his face and neck with kisses.]

THE CALIFORNIAN
(as he gets back into his berth, sotto voce). I wish I had been her baby.

MRS. ROBERTS
(returning with her husband to his seat, and bringing the baby with her). There! Did you ever see such a sleeper, Edward? [In her ecstasy she abandons all control of her voice, and joyfully exclaims.] He has slept all through this excitement, without a wink.

A solemn Voice from one of the berths: I envy him.

[A laugh follows, in which all the passengers join.]

MRS. ROBERTS
(in a hoarse whisper, breaking a little with laughter). Oh, my goodness! there I went again. But how funny! I assure you, Edward, that if their remarks had not been about me, I could have really quite enjoyed some of them. I wish there had been somebody here to take them down. And I hope I shall see some of the speakers in the morning before–Edward, I’ve got an idea!

MR. ROBERTS
(endeavoring to teach his wife by example to lower her voice, which has risen again). What–what is it, my dear?

MRS. ROBERTS: Why, don’t you see? How perfectly ridiculous it was of me not to think of it before! though I did think of it once, and hadn’t the courage to insist upon it. But of course it is; and it accounts for his being so polite and kind to me through all, and it’s the only thing that can. Yes, yes, it must be.

MR. ROBERTS
(mystified). What?

MRS. ROBERTS: Willis.

MR. ROBERTS: Who?

MRS. ROBERTS: This Californian.

MR. ROBERTS: Oh!

MRS. ROBERTS: No stranger could have been so patient and–and–attentive; and I know that he recognized me from the first, and he’s just kept it up for a joke, so as to surprise us and have a good laugh at us when we get to Boston. Of course it’s Willis.

MR. ROBERTS
(doubtfully). Do you think so, my dear?

MRS. ROBERTS: I know it. Didn’t you notice how he looked at your card? And I want you to go at once and speak to him, and turn the tables on him.

MR. ROBERTS: I–I’d rather not, my dear.