with a start, and said, affectionately putting her arm around Betsy, "Why, you darling, what does Aunt Frances care about trouble if her own dear baby-girl is happy?"
And Betsy said, resolutely, "Oh, you know, Aunt Frances, I'd love to be with you!" She ventured one more step through the thicket. "But honestly, Aunt Frances, won't it be a bother . . .?"
Aunt Frances ventured another step to meet her, "But dear little girls must be somewhere . . ."
And Betsy almost forgot her caution and burst out, "But I could stay here! I know they would keep me!"
Even Aunt Frances's two veils could not hide the gleam of relief and hope that came into her pretty, thin, sweet face. She summoned all her courage and stepped out into the clearing in the middle of the thicket, asking right out, boldly, "Why, do you like it here, Betsy? Would you like to stay?"
And Betsy—she never could remember after-
