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Page 16
"Do you want my blue spotted necktie, sister?" asked Holland, leaning
against her and looking up into her face with an anxious little pucker
on his forehead. "It's the best one I've got, but you may take it if you
want to."
"And maybe--" began Mary, hesitatingly. She stopped an instant, a little
struggle evidently going on in her mind. Then she began again, bravely:
"Yes, I'll lend it to you if you want it. You may take my new rosebud
sash. There!"
A queer little lump came into Joyce's throat as she thanked the children
for their generous offers. She accepted the umbrella, but refused the
spotted tie and rosebud sash, to the evident relief of their owners, who
wanted to be generous, but were glad to be able to Keep the part of
their wardrobes they most admired.
"It more than doubles the pleasure, doesn't it, mamma," said Joyce, "to
have everybody take so much interest in your having a good time? I
wonder if the other girls are having as much fun out of planning for
their visit as I am."
"I doubt it," answered Mrs. Ware. "Elizabeth is an orphan, you know, and
Eugenia Forbes, with all her wealth, is practically homeless, for there
is little home-life in either a boarding-school or a big hotel."
Joyce looked around on the cheerful little group gathered near the lamp,
and a sudden mist blurred her sight at thought of leaving them. She
would not have exchanged the little brown house and what it held, just
then, for a king's palace. Outside in the pitch-darkness of the night
the rain beat against the window-panes like some poor beggar imploring
to come in; and inside it was so cosy and bright with the warmth and
cheer of home-loves and home-lights that Joyce was not sure, after all,
that she could leave such a shelter even to be a guest at the Little
Colonel's house party.
CHAPTER V.
BETTY REACHES THE "HOUSE BEAUTIFUL."
It was very early in the morning, while the dew was still on the
meadows, that Betty fared forth on her pilgrimage. The old farm wagon
that was to take her to the railroad station, two miles away, was drawn
up to the door before five o'clock. Davy proudly held the reins while
his father carried Betty's trunk down-stairs.
Poor, shabby, little, old leather trunk! It was not half full, for there
had been small preparation for this visit. Betty had carefully folded
the few gingham dresses she possessed, and the new blue and white lawn
bought for her to wear to church. There were several stitches to be
taken in her plain cotton under-wear, and a button to be sewed on her
only white ruffled apron.
That was all that she could do to make herself ready, except to put her
hair-ribbons and handkerchiefs smoothly into a little diamond-shaped box
that had once held toilet soap. Betty felt rich in ribbons "to tie up
her bonnie brown hair," for there were three bows the colour of her
curls, and two of red, and one of delicate robin's-egg blue. The last
was to wear with the new lawn, and, in order to keep it fresh and fine,
it lay wrapped in tissue-paper all week, between the times of its Sunday
wearings.
And the handkerchiefs--well, six of them were plain and white, and two
had pictures stamped in the corners. One told the story of Red
Ridinghood and the other had scenes from Cinderella outlined in blue.
They had been Davy's present to her the Christmas before, and he had
bought them at Squire Jaynes's store with his own precious pennies.
That was all that Betty had intended to put into her trunk, but when
they were in, there was still so much room that she decided to take her
books and several of her chief treasures. "They will be safer," she said
to herself, and she filled a box with cotton in which to pack some of
her breakable keepsakes. She had hesitated some time about taking her
scrap-book, an old ledger on whose blank pages she had written many
verses. She hardly dared call them poetry, and yet they were dear to
her, because they were the outpourings of her lonely little heart.
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