self, then began again. "I was about to say that it's a pity
you're going to be married, because you may be so taken up with yoah
housekeeping and home-making that you'll nevah have time for yoah
writing. But, on second thought, I can't say it. I know from experience
that having Rob and a home like mine are bettah than all the books that
anybody could write."

"_Jack_ will never be a hindrance to authorship," asserted Betty
positively. "He's already been the greatest help. He's so proud of
everything I write, and really so helpful in his criticisms that he is a
constant inspiration."

At this mention of him she reached forward and began to scrabble things
hastily into the trunk.

"Here I sit, dawdling along with this packing as if the morning were not
fairly flying by, and he'll be here on the five o'clock train. There's
so much to do I don't know what to touch first."

Thus inspired to swift action, Lloyd began to help vigorously, and the
pile of relics were soon out of sight under the travel-worn old lid.
Souvenirs of their boarding-school days at Lloydsboro Seminary, of
Christmas vacations, of happy friendships at Warwick Hall, went in in a
hurry. Her old tennis racquet, a pennant that Rob had sent her from
college, a kodak album of Keith's that they had filled together one
happy summer, Malcolm's riding whip, all in at last, locked in and
strapped down, ready for their journey to their new home.

Down-stairs there was other packing to do, but Mrs. Sherman was
attending to that with the assistance of Mom Beck and Alec. All the
stores of household linen, which was her gift to her beloved
god-daughter, from whom she was parting so reluctantly, were carefully
folded away. The chest of silver from Papa Jack, all the collection of
bric-a-brac and fancy work sent in by many friends in the Valley,
Lloyd's gift, a Persian rug, and the old Colonel's, a large box of
carefully selected books, had already been shipped to Lone-Rock, to
transform the plain old living-room into a thing of beauty. The etching
which the Walton girls sent would help largely in that transforming
process, also the beautiful painting of beech trees which Mrs. Walton
gave, knowing that Betty loved the stately old trees as dearly as did
she herself.

It was Betty's great regret that The Beeches was closed at the time and
the family all away, for she longed to have these especial friends with
her on her happy day. Elise was still in school at Warwick