Betty had a hazy notion of what was meant, though she had visited the city where they were to change cars, it was very different, however, to follow some one else without noticing how it was managed. She determined to keep her eyes open on future trips. Well, there was no use in worrying, but she wasn’t going to trust the bags to any porter. They could carry what they had. Also, they would stay together, as Aunt Jo had advised, with no expeditions here and there while they waited for their second train. In this case ignorance was not bliss, for what would have been perfectly simple to an experienced traveler was a matter for serious consideration to Betty. Fortunately, Amy Lou was angelic. Fascinated by the kaleidoscope of scenery, she watched it happily; and when they left the train she willingly clung to Betty’s hand, saying, “I don’t want to get losted, do I?” She nearly went to sleep in the station during their long wait, but Dick came to the rescue with some entertainment, just as Betty was having visions of having to carry a heavy Amy Lou to the train. At last they were established on the right train for the city for which, they were bound and Betty breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing but a wreck could keep them from home now, she told Dick. “‘Home!’” repeated Dick, pursing his lips. “Well,” argued Doris, “Betty’s right. It’ll be home, even if we’ve never seen it.” “Wherever Mother and Father are, it’s home, isn’t it?” and Betty’s dimples showed as she spoke. “You win,” grinned Dick, suggesting that Aunt Jo’s lunch be served. They all did their best, but the last hours were trying after little naps were over and time was dragging for them all, unaccustomed as they were to long train rides. When they were feeling that they could not stand it any longer and Amy Lou was beginning to be fractious, they drew into the suburbs of the “city of our dreams,” as Doris sarcastically remarked. But interest revived and Dick told the youngest sister to watch for the place where they would find their mother. It was a happy suggestion, particularly for Betty, who was thinking that patience would cease to be a virtue pretty soon, if she had to keep the child in check much longer. At last the crowds were in the aisles. The train stopped with its accustomed jerk. The tiresome day was almost over. Which way should they go? The direction of the crowd settled that question for them, but where would they find Father? They avoided little baggage trucks that ran about and looked like hand‐cars off the track. Here were iron gates where Dick, at Betty’s suggestion, inquired the way to the waiting room, where they found “Information” again. By this time Betty was worried. Where could her father be? For the sake of the rest, she made herself keep calm and cheerful and Dick suggested that it was not easy to get around in a city. Probably they would be there pretty soon.