MRS. ROBERTS (enraptured by his companionship).  Oh, he must be some connection. [She glances through the window.] I do believe that was Newton, or Newtonville, or West Newton, or Newton Centre.  I must run and wake up baby, and get him dressed.  I shan’t want to wait an instant after we get in.  Why, we’re slowing up!  Why, I do believe we’re there!  Edward, we’re there!  Only fancy being there already!

MR. ROBERTS.  Yes, my dear.  Only we’re not quite there yet.  Hadn’t we better call your aunt Mary?

MRS. ROBERTS.  I’d forgotten her.

CAMPBELL.  Is Aunt Mary with you?

MRS. ROBERTS.  To be sure she is.  Didn’t I tell you?  She came on expressly to meet you.

CAMPBELL (starting up impetuously).  Which berth is she in?

MRS. ROBERTS.  Right over baby.

CAMPBELL.  And which berth is baby in?

MRS. ROBERTS (distractedly).  Why, that’s just what I can’t tell.  It was bad enough when they were all filled up, but now since the people have begun to come out of them, and some of them are made into seats I can’t tell.

THE CALIFORNIAN.  I’ll look for you, ma’am.  I should like to wake up all the wrong passengers on this car.  I’d take a pleasure in it.  If you could make sure of any berth that ain’t the one, I’ll begin on that.

MRS. ROBERTS.  I can’t even be sure of the wrong one.  No, no; you mustn’t—­[THE CALIFORNIAN moves away, and pauses in front of one of the berths, looking back inquiringly at MRS. ROBERTS.] Oh, don’t ask me! I can’t tell. [To CAMPBELL.] Isn’t he amusing?  So like all those Californians that one reads of—­so chivalrous and so humorous!

AUNT MARY (thrusting her head from the curtains of the berth before which THE CALIFORNIAN is standing).  Go along with you!  What do you want?

THE CALIFORNIAN.  Aunt Mary.

AUNT MARY.  Go away.  Aunt Mary, indeed!

MRS. ROBERTS (running toward her, followed by CAMPBELL and MR. ROBERTS). 
Why, Aunt Mary, it is you!  And here’s Willis, and here’s Edward.

AUNT MARY.  Nonsense!  How did they get aboard?

MRS. ROBERTS.  Edward came on at Worcester and Willis at Framingham, to surprise me.

AUNT MARY.  And a very silly performance.  Let them wait till I’m dressed, and then I’ll talk to them.  Send for the porter. [She withdraws her head behind the curtain, and then thrusts it out again.] And who, pray, may this be?

[She indicates THE CALIFORNIAN.]

MRS. ROBERTS.  Oh, a friend of ours from California, who’s been so kind to us all night, and who’s going home with us.

AUNT MARY.  Another ridiculous surprise, I suppose.  But he shall not surprise me.  Young man, isn’t your name Sawyer?

THE CALIFORNIAN.  Yes, ma’am.

AUNT MARY.  Abram?