somebody was took with fits; an' there was y'r father with both
his hands full o' somethin' he'd collected to stay himself with, an' he
looked 's much o' a boy's ever he did, and I so remarked, an' he told me
he was goin' to Riverport. 'Want a little change, I s'pose?' says I, an'
he laughed good an' clipped it out o' the door and down towards the
landin'."

"I wonder what he's after now, Serena?" said Betty sagely, but Serena
shook her head absently. It was evident to Betty's mind that papa had
shaken off all thought of care, and was taking steps towards some
desired form of enjoyment. He had been disappointed the evening before
to find that there were hardly any boats to be had. Very likely he meant
to bring one up on the packet that afternoon; but Betty was disappointed
not to find him in the house, and thought that he might have called her
to go down on the packet with him. She felt as if she were going to
have a long and dull morning.

However, she found that Aunt Mary was awake and in a cheerful frame, so
she brought her boots in, and sat by the garden window while she put
some new buttons on with the delightful little clamps that save so many
difficult stitches. Aunt Mary was already dressed, though it was only
nine o'clock, and was seated before an open bureau drawer, which her
grandniece had learned to recognize as a good sign. Aunt Mary had
endless treasures of the past carefully tucked away in little bundles
and boxes, and she liked to look these over, and to show them to Betty,
and tell their history. She listened with great eagerness to Betty's
account of papa's departure.

"I was afraid that you would feel tired this morning," said the girl,
turning a bright face toward her aunt.

"I am sure I expected it myself," replied Aunt Mary plaintively, "but it
isn't neuralgia weather, perhaps. At any rate, I am none the worse."

"I believe that a good frolic is the very best thing for you," insisted
Betty, feeling very bold; but Aunt Mary received this news amiably,
though she made no reply. Betty had recovered by this time from her
sense of bitter wrong at her father's departure, and after she had
talked with Aunt Mary a little while about the grand success of the
Out-of-Door Club, she went her ways to find Becky.

Becky was in a very friendly mood, and admired Mr. Leicester, and
wondered too at ever having been afraid of him in other years, when she
used to see him walking sedately down the street.

"Pa