t."

"But it wouldn't be any sacrifice. Not a mite! I haven't seen him for
such a long time, and I'd love to go. He used to be the dearest little
fellow, never out of my sight a moment during the day. They used to call
him 'Betty's shadow.'"

"Why don't you go if you wish it so much?" was on the tip of Gay's
tongue, but she stopped the question just before it slipped off,
remembering Betty's dependence on her godmother. Kitty had told her all
about it one time. Naturally she wouldn't want to ask for the money,
even for such a short journey, when so much was being spent to keep her
at school with Lloyd; and naturally she would not want to ask to leave
Locust at Christmas, when that was the time of all the year when she
could be of service, and in many ways add greatly to the pleasure of the
entire household.

The nonsense stopped for a few minutes. No one knew what to say to
comfort Betty, although they were genuinely sorry, and glanced from time
to time at the brown head turned away from them toward the window. She
was looking at the flying landscape through a blur of tears, recalling
the way little Davy's dimpled fingers had clung to hers, his chubby feet
followed her. Of course he was much larger and older, she told herself,
not at all like the little fellow she had left so long ago. He was big
enough to stand pain now, and probably the worst of his suffering was
over. Still, she saw only a solemn baby face when she pictured him, and
heard only the lisping voice, saying as he used to say when stumped toe
or bruised finger brought the tears: "It hurth your Davy boy. Tie a wag
on it, Betty." How he had loved her stories! What a pleasure they would
be to him now in the long days he would be forced to spend in bed.

Suddenly conscious of the silence around her, Betty turned, realizing
that her depression had cast a shadow on the spirits of all the rest.

"Don't think about my bad news any more," she said, brightly. "It
probably isn't half as bad as I have been picturing it. My imagination
always runs away with me. It isn't Davy the baby that's had such an
awful accident. It was that thought that hurt me so at first. I keep
forgetting that it's five years since I left there. I'm going to drop
him a postal card at the next station. I can write to him every day, and
make a sort of game of the letters with riddles and suggestions of
things for him to do, and that will help the time pass."

"First call to dinnah in the d