thoughtfully.

"Well, I don't see why they shouldn't," said Hugh; "widowers have
children."




Chapter IV


Suppose all aunts, that is to say, all professional aunt, know
what it is to be visited at seven o'clock in the morning by
nephews and nieces, fresh, vigorous, and rosy after a night's
rest. Fresh, and oh! so vigorous and deliciously rosy were Hugh
and Betty when they appeared at my bedside at seven o'clock the
next morning.

"Hullo!" said Hugh, "we've come. May we get into your bed? I'll
get up steam and take a long run and jump in. Shall I?"

I braced myself up for the shock. There is no need to go through
the morning's program; I suppose every aunt knows it. Bears,
camel-rides, robbers, and various other things, all of a
distinctly energetic nature. At half past seven-you see it
doesn't take long, any aunt can bear half an hour -- Nannie
appeared, carrying a deliciously rosy Sara with her hair done on
the top, which makes her more than ever fascinating; and in her
arms she carried her bunny - Sara's arms, I mean, of course.
"Nice bunny," she said.