"Come, Bettie dear, you've cried long enough. We must get to work for we've a tremendous lot to do. Don't you suppose, if we had all the things packed in baskets or bundles that we could get a few of your brothers to help us move out after dark? I just can't let those Milligans gloat over us while we go back and forth with things."
Bettie's only response was a sob.
"Where in the world can we put the things?" asked Marjory, sitting up suddenly and displaying a blotched and swollen countenance very unlike her usual fair, rose-tinted face. "Of course we can each take our dolls and books home, but our furniture"
"I'm going to ask mother if we can't store it upstairs in our barn. I'm sure she'll let us."
"Oh, I wish Mr. Black were here. It doesn't seem possible we've really got to move. There must be some way out of it. Oh Bettie! couldn't we write to Mr. Black?"
