"Mother," she implored. "Yes, dear?" "Why can't we go, too, mother dear?" "We must stay to care for Aunt Elinor." "But she has a doctor and two nurses now," protested the child. "But," returned her mother, smiling, "that isn't like one's own family." The child was for a moment sunk deep in thought most serious. "But why must both of us stay?" she asked, at length. Then, suddenly: "Mother, dear!" "Yes little sweetheart?" "I'll match you to see which one of us goes!" Mrs. Schuyler, surprised, smiled. "Why, daughter! Wherever did you learn that?" "I heard Mr. Tom and daddy the other night. They were sitting in the library, and Mr. Tom said, 'I'll match you to see who gets the cigars.' So, mother dear, I thought that you and I might match one another to see which of us could go with daddy." Kathryn placed an arm about her, drawing her to her. "Do you want to go with daddy--and leave mother?" she asked. The child shook her head, doubtfully. "No," she said, "not exactly.... I want to go with daddy. I love daddy. But I want to stay with you, too, mother dear.... Mother dear," she added suddenly. "Yes, sweetheart?" "Wouldn't it be nice if we were both twins! Then half of us could go with daddy, and the other half of us stay at home with Aunt Elinor." [Illustration] CHAPTER SIXTEEN. THE BEGINNING. Schuyler came hurrying down the deck, Blake and Parks close behind. There was on his face the smile of great gladness. He placed one strong arm about his wife, the other about his child. "I've some bully news for you, Kate, dear! The President has so arranged that I can complete my work and get back to you in less than a month. Isn't that splendid? Just one little month and I'll be back again with you and baby." The child raised her head in protest. "But I'm not a baby, now. I'm six years old. Mother has to pay full fare for me on the cars. Don't you, mother?" Schuyler picked her up from the deck, tossing her in the air. "No matter what you may be to conductors, you'll always be baby to daddy, you little darling," he said, brightly. Then, turning to Blake, with lightness born of great earnestness: "Take good care of them while I'm gone, won't you, old man. By Jove, I'd like to chuck it all, even at the last minute as it is, and stay at home--"