Somehow, the idea of food occurred to this trio of travelers at one and the same time. Bo'sn crept up to his mistress and rubbed his sides against her legs, dumbly pleading for rest and refreshment. He was very tired, for a dog, and as confused as Take-a-Stitch by these strange surroundings, and acted as if unwilling to go further afield. At every possible chance now, he would lie down on the ground and remain there until his companions were so far in advance that he feared to be lost himself. Surely he felt that this long road was the wrong road, where he would listen in vain for the tap-tap of his master's cane and the scent of his master's footsteps. As for Bonny Angel, she suddenly paused in the midst of her mischievous gaiety, put up her lip and began to howl as loudly and dismally as any common Lane baby could have done. Then when her new nurse hurried to her, distressed and self-reproachful for not having carried her all the way, down the little one flung herself prone in the dirt and rolled and kicked most lustily. Glory did her utmost, but she could neither quiet nor lift the struggling "Angel," and finally she ceased her efforts and, with arms akimbo and the wisdom of experience coolly addressed her charge: "See here, Bonny Angel! You're the sweetest thing in the world, but that's jest spunk, that is. You're homesick, I s'pose, an' tired an' hungry, an' want your ma, an' all them bad things together makes you feel ye don't know how! I feel that-a-way myself, a-times, but I don't go rollin' in mud puddles an' sp'ilin' my nice silk coats, I don't. I wouldn't besmutch myself so not fer nothin'. My, but you be a sight! An' only this mornin' 't ever was you was that lovely!" When Take-a-Stitch treated Bonny Angel as she would have treated any other infant, the result proved her wisdom. As soon as comforting ceased, the child's rebellion to it also ceased; and when, shocked by its condition, the girl stooped to examine the once dainty coat, its small wearer scrambled to her feet, lifted her tear-stained face to be kissed, smiled dazzlingly, and cried merrily, "Bonny come!" "Oh, you surely are an 'Angel,' you beautifullest thing!" said Glory, again raising the child in her arms and starting onward once more. She had no idea whither they were going and Bonny Angel had ceased to point the way with her tiny forefinger, but she cuddled her curly head on her nurse's shoulder and presently fell asleep. The tracks diminished in number as they proceeded till they came to a point where but few remained. Some ran straight on along the river bank, though this was hidden by outlying small buildings; and some branched westward around the bluff whereon grew those green trees and sloped the terraces seen from the boat. Here, after a halt of admiration, Glory found it growing exceedingly dark, and wondered if it had already become nightfall.