"Oh, no, she can't be lost, Polly," said Jasper, cheerfully, as he
bounded up the stairs and gained her side; "why, she couldn't be!"

"Well, anyway, we can't find her, Jasper," said Polly, running on. "And
it's all my fault, for I forgot, and left her in the library, and went
with Fanny Vanderburgh down to her state-room. O dear me!" as she sped
on.

"Well, she's in the library now, most likely," said Jasper, cheerfully,
hurrying after, "curled up asleep in a corner." And they both ran in,
expecting to see Phronsie's yellow head snuggled into one of the
pillows.

But there was no one there except a little old gentleman on one of the
sofas back of a table, who held his paper upside down, his big
spectacles on the end of his nose, almost tumbling off as he nodded
drowsily with the motion of the steamer.

"O dear me!" exclaimed Polly; "now we shall wake him up," as they
tiptoed around, peering in every cosey corner and behind all the tables
for a glimpse of Phronsie's little brown gown.

"No danger," said Jasper, with a glance over at the old gentleman;
"he's just as fast asleep as can be. Here, Polly, I think she's
probably tucked up in here." And he hurried over to the farther side,
where the sofa made a generous angle.

Just then in stalked a tall boy, who rushed up to the little old
gentleman. "Here, Granddad, wake up." And he shook his arm smartly.
"You're losing your glasses, and then there'll be a beastly row to