rs from concessions, and a lame back that
she kept all winter. Even deducting the twenty-five hundred she had put
up, she was forty-five hundred dollars ahead, not counting the prize
money. Charlie Sand brought the money from the track that night, after
having paid off Mr. Ellis's racing-string and given Mr. Atkins a small
present. He took over the prize money to Jasper and came back with it,
Jasper maintaining that it belonged to Tish, and that he had only raced
for the honor of Morris Valley. For some time the money went begging,
but it settled itself naturally enough, Tish giving it to Jasper in the
event of--but that came later.

On the following evening--Bettina, in the pursuit of learning to cook,
having baked a chocolate cake--we saw Jasper, with his arm in a sling,
crossing the side lawn.

Jasper stopped at the foot of the steps. "I see a chocolate cake cooling
on the kitchen porch," he said. "Did you order it, Miss Lizzie?"

I shook my head.

"Miss Tish? Miss Aggie?"

"I ordered it," said Bettina defiantly--"or rather I baked it."

"And you did that, knowing what it entailed? He was coming up the steps
slowly and with care.

"What does it entail?" demanded Bettina.

"Me."

"Oh, that!" said Bettina. "I knew that."

Jasper threw his head back and laughed. Then:--

"Will the Associated Chaperons," he said, "turn their backs?"

"Not at all," I began stiffly. "If I--"

"She baked it herself!" said Jasper exultantly. "One--two. When I say
three I shall kiss Bettina."

And I have every reason to believe he carried out his threat.

* * * * *

Eliza Bailey forwarded me this letter from London where Bettina had sent
it to her:--

_Dearest Mother_: I hope you are coming home soon. I really think you
should. Aunt Lizzie is here and she brought two friends, and, mother,
I feel so responsible for them! Aunt Lizzie is sane enough, if somewhat
cranky; but Miss Tish is almost more than I can manage--I never know
what she is going to do next--and I am worn out with chaperoning her.
And Miss Aggie, although she is very sweet, is always smoking cubeb
cigarettes for hay fever, and it looks terrible! The neighbors do not
know they are cubeb, and, anyhow, that's a habit, mother. And yesterday
Miss Tish was arrested, and ran a motor race and won it, and to-day she
is knitting a stocking and reciting the Twenty-third Psalm. Please,
mother, I think you should com