ne that she
might have been a happy matron, living on one of the old places that she
would see in Virginia, instead of being Miss Betsey Taylor of Hartford,
who had never ventured farther than New York City in the sixty years of
her maiden life. To tell the truth, Miss Betsey was as enthusiastic over
the prospect of a trip in a houseboat as were the members of the "Merry
Maid's" crew.

When the two girls and the children drove into Miss Betsey's yard David
helped Madge, Phil and the twins out of the doctor's buggy, looking more
surly and impossible than ever. A secret bitterness was surging in him.
Miss Betsey had promised to give him steady work at "Chestnut Cottage"
all summer. Now she was going away on a trip with a lot of silly girls.
Once again he was to be balked in the cherished desire of his life. In
his bitterness of heart he pretended he had never seen Madge before.

"I would like to talk to you, David, after we have seen Miss Taylor,"
said Madge in a friendly fashion to the scowling youth. "I won't take up
much of your time."

David walked away without making any reply, which angered the girl, and
as she walked into the house she began to feel rather sorry that she had
tried to play Good Samaritan to such a churlish fellow.

To-day Miss Betsey really wished to make a good impression on Madge and
Phil. She was as anxious that they should like her as the girls were to
please the queer old lady. Miss Betsey was waiting for her guests in her
prim, old-fashioned parlor. The dim light from the closed green blinds
was grateful after the brilliant sunshine of the warm July day. On a
little, spindle-legged mahogany table were tall glasses of fruit
lemonade and a plate of assorted cakes.

Miss Betsey surveyed Madge Morton with keen, curious eyes. She already
knew Phil. But before she trusted her life to these girls she wished to
take their measure. Madge's appearance as she emerged from under the
overturned buggy had not been prepossessing. To-day Miss Betsey would be
able to judge her better. As she scrutinized the little captain she was
not altogether pleased with Madge's looks. She preferred Phil's dark,
serious face. There was too much ardor, too much warm, bright color
about Madge in her deep-toned auburn hair and the healthy scarlet of her
lips. Madge breathed a kind of radiant impulse toward a fullness of life
that was opposed to Miss Betsey Taylor's theory of existence. Still, she
could find no objection t