ar Becky be all the morning? They had been famous cronies in that last
visit, when they were eleven years old. Betty hurried into the house to
find her hat and tell Aunt Barbara where she was going.

Aunt Barbara took the matter into serious consideration. "Why, Mary will
come to see you this afternoon, I don't doubt, my dear, and perhaps you
had better wait until after dinner. They dine earlier than we, and are
apt to be busy."

Betty turned away disappointed. She wished that she had thought to find
Mary just after breakfast in their friendly old fashion, but it was too
late now. She would sit down at the old secretary in the library and
begin a letter to papa.

"Dear Papa," she wrote, "Here I am at Tideshead, and I feel just as I
used when I was a little girl, but people treat me, even Mary Beck, as
if I were grown up, and it is a little lonely just at first. Everything
looks just the same, and Serena made me some hearts and rounds for
supper; wasn't she kind to remember? And they put on the old silver mug
that you used to have, for me to drink out of. And I like Aunt Barbara
best of the two aunts, after all, which is sure to make you laugh,
though Aunt Mary is very kind and seems ill, so that I mean to be as
nice to her as I possibly can. They seemed to think that you were going
off just as far as you possibly could without going to a star, and it
made me miss you more than ever. Jonathan talked about politics, whether
I listened or not, and didn't like it when I said that you believed in
tariff reform. He really scolded and said the country would go to the
dogs, and I was sorry that I knew so little about politics. People
expect you to know so many new things with every inch you grow. Dear
papa, I wish that I were with you. Remember not to smoke too often, even
if you wish to very much; and please, dear papa, think very often that
I am your only dear child,

BETTY.

"P. S.--I miss you more because they are all so much older than we are,
papa dear. Perhaps you will tell me about the tariff reform for a lesson
letter when you can't think of anything else to write about. I have not
seen Mary Beck yet, or any of the girls I used to know. Mary always came
right over before. I must tell you next time about such a funny, nice
old woman who came most of the way with me in the cars, and what will
you think when I tell you the most important thing,--I had to come up
river