“Oh, the poor animal must be hungry,” exclaimed Mrs. Page, just as the boy had given his name as Tige. “But come, children,” she added, “and get your suppers; and the dog, too,” patting the brown head of the refugee, while a look of infinite pity shone from her kindly eyes. The boys needed no further urging, as Danny, with a wild hoot of delight, yelled, “Come on, fellers; it’s eats.” And then, notwithstanding Nathalie’s well-laid plans that each one should have a good wash-up before eating, they made a straight run for the kitchen. Here they were soon putting down everything in sight in a way that almost frightened the girl, as she suddenly realized the care and responsibility she had taken upon herself. And that _one-armed boy_! O dear! she had never thought of such a thing as _that_. But if they didn’t have their wash before supper, they had it very soon after, as the girl marched each one separately to the washbowl in the bathroom, and, after making him duck his head in the water, proceeded to give it a vigorous shampoo, notwithstanding sundry squirms and twists, for Nathalie believed in taking things by the forelock, and they just _must be clean_. Then the scrubbed one, after being supplied with towels and soap, was informed that he must give himself a good scrubbing in the tub, and if he failed to do it properly, he would have to do it all over again. Nathalie’s somewhat severe admonition was met with stony silence on the part of her victims, unless it was a rather loud, “Gee whiz, fellers; here’s me for a swim!” that involuntarily escaped Danny, the older boy, when he found himself before the well-filled bath-tub. When it came to the little chap’s turn, Nathalie’s young heart revolted at letting him go through the washing process all by himself, as he was so little, tired, and sleepy, so she said that she would give him his bath. To her surprise he began to whimper, while his older brother protested most vehemently that he could bathe him. “Oh, no,” returned the young lady decidedly; and a few moments later her charge was standing in the bath-tub, ready for his scrubbing, Nathalie meanwhile talking to him gently, as if to quiet his fears. Some time later, with a red, heated face, the young girl emerged from the room, dragging a little white-robed figure by the hand, whose face was, strange to say, wreathed in dimples. “Here, dear, you get into Miss Natty’s bed,” said the girl, leading the child into her room, “and brother will stay with you until I return,” motioning to Danny, who had been waiting outside the bathroom, with a strange, worried look on his face. “Oh, mother,” exclaimed Nathalie a moment later, as she came rushing out to the porch. “What do you think? Oh, I never was so surprised in my life!” “Why, Nathalie, what is the matter with you?” ejaculated Janet, as she placed her arm caressingly around the girl. “You are as white as a ghost, and you’re all of a tremble.”