that want
everything done some other way, and then let you do it after all. But I
thought at first it was going to be so stupid, and that nobody would
like any of the things I did; and here is Mary Picknell, who can paint
beautifully, and Harry Foster knows so many of the things you do, and
George Max is going to be a sea-captain, and so is Jim Beck, and poor
dear Becky can sing like a bird when she feels good-natured. Why, papa,
dear, I do believe that there is one person in Tideshead of every kind
in the world. And Aunt Barbara is a duchess!"

"I never saw so grand a duchess as your Aunt Barbara in her very best
gown," said Betty's papa, "but I haven't seen all the duchesses there
are in existence."

"Oh, papa, do let us come and live here together," pleaded the girl,
with shining eyes. "Must you go back to England for very long? After I
see Mrs. Duncan and the rest of the people in London, I am so afraid I
shall be homesick. You can keep on having the cubby-house for a very
private study, and I know you could write beautifully on the rainy days,
when the elm branches make such a nice noise on the roof. Oh, papa, do
let us come some time!"

"Some time," repeated Mr. Leicester, with great assurance. "How would
next summer do, for instance? I have been talking with Aunt Barbara
about it, and we have a grand plan for the writing of a new book, and
having some friends of mine come here too, and for the doing of great
works. I shall need a stenographer, and we are"--

"Those other people could live at the Fosters' and Becks'," Betty
interrupted, delightedly entering into the plans. She was used to the
busy little colonies of students who gathered round her father. "Here
comes Mr. Marsh, the teacher of the academy, to see you," and she danced
away on the tips of her toes.

"Serena and Letty! I am coming back to stay all next summer, and papa
too," she said, when she reached the middle of the kitchen.

"Thank the goodness!" said Serena. "Only don't let your pa bring his
talking-machine to save up everybody's foolish speeches. Your aunt said
this morning that what I ought to ha' said into it was, 'Miss Leicester,
we're all out o' sugar.' But the sugar's goin' to last longer when
you're gone. I expect we shall miss you," said the good woman, with
great feeling.

Now, everything was to be done next summer: all the things that Betty
had forgotten and all that she had planned and could not carry out. It
was very sad to g