nowledge is scarcely sufficient to enable me to adjust this costume
properly."

"It seems to be on all right," said Patty, looking at it critically; "but
where in the world did you get it? And what have you got it on for? We're
not going to a masquerade."

"I put it on," said Nan, "because I couldn't help myself. I wanted to
change my travelling gown, and when I opened my suit-case this is all
there was in it, except some combs and brushes and bottles."

"Whew!" said Bob. "When I picked up that suit-case I wasn't quite sure I
had the right one. You know I went back for it after we left the train at
New Brunswick, and you said it was the only one in the world with a
handle on the end."

"I thought it was," said Nan, "but it seems somebody else was clever
enough to have an end-handle too, and she was a trained nurse,
apparently."

"Many of the new suit-cases have handles on the end," said Mr. Fairfield,
"though not common as yet I have seen a number of them. But just imagine
how the nurse feels who is obliged to wear your dinner gown instead of
her uniform."

"I hope she won't spoil it," exclaimed Bumble. "It was that lovely light
blue thing, one of the prettiest frocks you own."

"I can imagine her now," said Bob: "she is probably bathing the brow of a
sleepless patient, and the lace ruffles and turquoise bugles are helping
along a lot. In fact, I think she's looking rather nice going around a
sick-room in that blue bombazine."

"It isn't bombazine, Bob," said his sister; "it's beautiful, lovely
light-blue chiffon."

"Well, beautiful, lovely light-blue chiffon, then; but anyway, I'm
sure the nurse is glad of a chance to wear it instead of her own
plain clothes."

"But her own plain clothes are not at all unpicturesque, and are very
becoming to Miss Allen," said Mr. Fairfield. "But haven't your trunks
come?" he added, as they all went out to dinner.

"No," said Bob; "Mr. Harper and I investigated the baggage-room, but
they weren't there."

"Oh, call him Kenneth," said Patty. "You boys are too young for such
formality."

"I may be," said Bob, "but he isn't. He's a college man."

"He's a college boy," said Patty; "he's only nineteen, and you're sixteen
yourself."

"Going on seventeen," said Bob proudly, "and so is Bumble."

"Twins often are the same age," observed Mr. Fairfield, "and after a few
years, Bob, you'll have to be careful how you announce your own age,
because it will reveal your sister's."