“Oh, you dear Mother! You _are_ so sweet!” And with a final, rather smothering embrace, Betty said good night, and ran back to her bed to dream of valentines and Longfellow and Jeanette, all in a grand jumble. It was hard next day to say nothing of her plan to Dorothy, but Mrs. McGuire had decided if it were to be successful it must be kept absolutely secret. So not even Jack was told about it, and, after luncheon, Mrs. McGuire and Betty started off to buy the frock. Mrs. McGuire had slight misgivings about it all, but she determined to try the experiment, for it was the only way that the thing could possibly be accomplished, and she felt very sorry for Jeanette. After looking at several pretty, girlish dresses, they decided upon a lovely one of cream-white chiffon, made over white silk. It had a soft lace bertha, bordered with a wreath of tiny pink rosebuds. It was a simple, dainty little gown, but very effective, and Betty agreed that it would suit Jeanette perfectly. The saleswoman was asked to provide an especially nice box, and Betty examined it herself, to be sure that the corners were unbroken. Then, with explicit directions about careful packing and wrapping and speedy sending of it home, they went away. “Of course, Mother, I must send Jeanette another valentine, too; a real one, you know, so she won’t suspect about the dress. And, anyway, I want to buy at least twenty other valentines to send. Will you go with me?” So they went to another shop, and Betty bought valentines for a few school-girls and other friends she had made in Boston; for Jack and Polly and Grandma Jean, and for some of her Greenborough friends. Nor were Pete and Ellen forgotten, for Betty well knew how they would prize valentines from her. And so engrossing was the selection of all these that the afternoon slipped away, and when they reached home, to their great joy the new dress had already arrived. Behind the locked doors of her mother’s room, Betty carefully lifted the lovely thing from its tissue-papers, and exclaimed with delight at its beauty. It looked even prettier than it had in the shop, and Betty was sure her plan would be a fine success. “I hope so,” said Mrs. McGuire; “at any rate, we’ll try it, and if it doesn’t turn out as well as we hope, I’ll take the matter in charge, and go and see Mrs. Porter about it.” The next afternoon Betty devoted to fixing what she called the “valentine-y” part of it. The big box was of fine white pasteboard, of a watered design, with gilt edges, and the firm’s name in gilt letters on the cover. Over this name Betty pasted a large valentine that completely covered it. Then, with considerable cleverness, she cut up several other pretty valentines, and of the rose garlands and doves and cupids she obtained in this way, she contrived a sort of wreath, which, when pasted into place, made a border all round the box cover.