A Real Cinderella by Nina Rhoades

It was afternoon, and the Baltimore express was nearing the station at Old Point. From the window of the parlor car three very solemn little faces were looking out at the familiar landscape. It did not seem possible that less than twenty-four hours had elapsed since they had seen it last. It seemed to the children that they must have been away for at least a month. It had not been a cheerful journey, for Mr. Barlow was very much annoyed, and had had a long serious talk with his small son and daughter, in the course of which Jerry and Geraldine had both been reduced to repentant tears.

"When Father scolds he's much worse than Mother," Geraldine whispered to Gretel. "He doesn't get angry often, but when he does it's something awful. We really have been dreadfully bad. Father says when Mother got our letter, and found the boat had gone, she was so frightened she had hysterics. Did you ever see any one have hysterics?"