She had on a suit of embroidered blue linen, and a broad-brimmed straw hat trimmed with brown roses. The big hat suited Betty’s round face and curly hair, and, all unconsciously, she made a pretty picture as she sat there waiting. Before she had time to feel anxious about Dorothy’s non-appearance, a messenger-boy in uniform came toward her. “Is this Miss McGuire?” he said, touching his cap respectfully. “Yes,” said Betty, wondering how he knew her. “Then this is for you. The lady told me how you looked, and said I’d find you right here. No answer.” The boy turned away, and in a moment was lost in the crowd, leaving Betty in possession of a note addressed in Dorothy’s handwriting. She tore it open and read: Waldorf-Astoria. Dear Betty: What do you think! Aunt Evelyn has a _fearful_ sick headache, and can’t raise her head from the pillow. So, of course, we can’t go up the Hudson to-day, and she says for you to come right up here, and have luncheon here, and afterward Uncle Roger will take us to a matinée. She said this was the surest way to reach you, and for you not to be afraid, but just take a taxicab and come straight here. I told her I knew you wouldn’t be afraid, but she said for you to telephone us as soon as you get this note, so she’ll know it’s all right. She’s sort of nervous about you. So call us up right away, and I’ll answer you. In haste, Dorothy. P. S. I told the messenger he’d know you because you were very pretty, except for your turn-up nose. Betty smiled at Dorothy’s postscript, and then she read the note over again. On the whole, she didn’t much care that the plans were changed, for a luncheon at a fine hotel and a matinée afterward seemed quite as attractive on a hot day as a sail on a crowded excursion-boat. Also, she was not at all afraid! She laughed at the idea. She would telephone Dorothy, and then she would really enjoy taking a taxicab and driving up to the hotel all alone. It made her feel decidedly grown-up. So she went to the telephone booth and called up Dorothy. “Indeed, I don’t mind the change of plans a bit,” she said, in answer to her friend’s query. “I’m awfully sorry for your aunt, but I think we’ll have a better time on land than on the water to-day. It’s getting very warm.” “Is it?” said Dorothy. “It seems cool here.” “Well, it’s hot out in the sun all right. I’ll take a taxi, and I’ll be with you in less than half an hour.” “Yes, come right here, and we’ll be waiting for you. My cousins Fred and Tom want to see you, and Aunt Evelyn says perhaps we can go for a drive in the Park before luncheon.” “Oh, that reminds me, Dorothy. I’ve a big box of luncheon with me. What shall I do with it? I can’t walk into the Waldorf with that!”