“You can’t miss it,” encouraged the station-master.  “Keep right along after your noses till they knock up against Mrs. Twist’s front gate.  I’ll look after the menagerie—­” thus did he describe the Twinkler luggage.  “Guess Mrs. Twist’ll be sending for it as soon as you get there.  Guess she forgot you.  Guess she’s shaken up by young Mr. Twist’s arriving this very day. I wouldn’t have forgotten you.  No, not for a dozen young Mr. Twists,” he added gallantly.

“Why do you call him young Mr. Twist,” inquired Anna-Felicitas, “when he isn’t?  He must be at least thirty or forty or fifty.”

“You see, we know him quite well,” said Anna-Rose proudly, as they walked off.  “He’s a great friend of ours.”

“You don’t say,” said the station-master, who was chewing gum; and as the twins had not yet seen this being done they concluded he had been interrupted in the middle of a meal by the arrival of the train.

“Now mind,” he called after them, “you do whatever the road does.  Give yourselves up to it, and however much it winds about stick to it.  You’ll meet other roads, but don’t you take any notice of them.”

Freed from their luggage, and for a moment from all care, the twins went up the hill.  It was the nicest thing in the world to be going to see their friend again in quite a few minutes.  They had, ever since the collapse of the Sack arrangements, been missing him very much.  As they hurried on through the scented woods, past quiet fields, between yellow-leaved hedges, the evening sky growing duskier and the beckoning star lighter, they remembered Mr. Twist’s extraordinary kindness, his devoted and unfailing care, with the warmest feelings of gratitude and affection.  Even Anna-Felicitas felt warm.  How often had he rearranged her head when it was hopelessly rolling about; how often had he fed her when she felt better enough to be hungry.  Anna-Felicitas was very hungry.  She still thought highly of pride and independence, but now considered their proper place was after a good meal.  And Anna-Rose, with all the shameless cheerfulness of one who for a little has got rid of her pride and is feeling very much more comfortable in consequence remarked that one mustn’t overdo independence.

“Let’s hurry,” said Anna-Felicitas.  “I’m so dreadfully hungry.  I do so terribly want supper.  And I’m sure it’s supper-time, and the Twists will have finished and we mightn’t get any.”

“As though Mr. Twist wouldn’t see to that!” exclaimed Anna-Rose, proud and confident.

But she did begin to run, for she too was very hungry, and they raced the rest of the way; which is why they arrived on the Twist doorstep panting, and couldn’t at first answer Amanda the head maid’s surprised and ungarnished inquiry as to what they wanted, when she opened the door and found them there.

“We want Mr. Twist,” said Anna-Rose, as soon as she could speak.

Amanda eyed them.  “You from the village?” she asked, thinking perhaps they might be a deputation of elder school children sent to recite welcoming poems to Mr. Twist on his safe return from the seat of war.  Yet she knew all the school children and everybody else in Clark, and none of them were these.