pretty air of offended dignity.

"Miss Adams," Betty began quietly, "it is growing late and if you don't
mind will you ask your maid to send for my carriage. I have had a lovely
day with you. Thank you for having asked me." And as she started limping
into the other room for her wraps it was the older woman who slipped
her arm affectionately about her, in the meantime frowning at Polly with
more displeasure than she had ever before shown.

But Mistress Polly did not stir from her stool nor cease from rocking
herself after the other two women had disappeared. Nor did she even
repent sufficiently to help Betty out to her carriage, in spite of her
friend's temporary lameness and need of her. The maid and Margaret could
this time fill her place. But it was not only bad temper nor was it
exactly repentance for her impertinence that kept Polly so steadfast in
her childish position. It was ridiculous of her, certainly, and yet she
could not keep back her tears. She had been fearful that her beloved
Betty was beginning to care for this young foreigner; now she felt
absolutely assured of it. For Betty would not even deny her accusation
nor quarrel with her effrontery. How grown-up she had become, her dear
Princess! And what a gracious, high-bred manner she had! It was too
dreadful to have to think of leaving her behind in a foreign country
forever and ever, married to a man whose ideas of life must be so
different from theirs. Well, for her part she should fight against such
a marriage taking place to the bitter end!

Nevertheless this resolution did not keep Polly from feeling like a very
rude and much-snubbed little girl for the rest of that afternoon and
evening. Miss Adams did not refrain from assuring her that she had
behaved like a bad-mannered child. For whether or not the Princess was
beginning to care for the young lieutenant, it was both unjust and
unkind in Polly to try to tear away the delicate veil of romance which
in the beginning should cover all young eyes.

As for Betty herself, she of course made no comment on the day's
experiences to her family, except to say that she had had a pleasant
enough time, but was tired. No one of them paid her as much attention as
usual, for they were too deeply interested in some news which Dick
Ashton had just received in an American letter. Anthony Graham had
written saying that old Judge Maynard had recently died and that Betty
had been mentioned in the old man's will. The wi