Betsy pressed her lips together. “If you don’t I’ll hug you, and Mrs. Bruce is up there on the piazza, looking.” “Mr. Irving, behave yourself!” Betsy essayed to rise, and was brought back swiftly by the strong hand. “I can see her in everything if you’ll just describe it.” “Well,” said Betsy reluctantly, casting a glance toward the piazza, “we got her a black lace.” “Too old, I should think.” “No, no, ’tain’t,” Betsy forgot her reluctance in defense. “It’s sort o’ half low neck and has fluffy things on it—real pretty.” “What else?” “A white lace one— Oh, she does look just like an angel in it, Mr. Irving!” The speaker suddenly remembered herself, and her lips snapped together. Irving frowned slightly. “Well, Mr. Derwent is blowing himself.” “He gave me five hundred dollars, Mr. Irving, and told me to fit that child out!” Betsy could not resist imparting her joyous news. “Oh,”—she heaved a long, eloquent sigh,—“I’ve had one good time, I tell you! I wanted to stay longer, but I promised Mrs. Bruce; and the everyday things she can get herself. She’s smart, and knows that the plainest things look best on her; because the Creator’s made her so she don’t need any trimmin’ up. I went to Mrs. Nixon’s house, and there they were dressin’ Miss Maynard out of a bottomless purse; but I’ll match my girl against her.” Irving, attentive, watched the narrow face glow. “And where did you say Rosalie is living?” “I didn’t say,” replied Betsy with a return of caution. “Not at Mrs. Nixon’s, I suppose.” “Well, I guess not. While I was examinin’ Miss Maynard’s finery, I was glad I didn’t have a pain in my head so that they could see my thoughts. If they’d known Mr. Derwent’s money was buyin’ another girl’s outfit they’d ’a’ needed a smellin’ bottle. You know, Mr. Irving, I thought perhaps Miss Maynard comin’ into that fortune would ’a’ liked to help Rosalie in some way. It really surprised me ’cause she didn’t.” “Miss Maynard’s head is in the clouds for the present. Very likely when she comes to earth she will be more interested in other people.” Betsy looked at the speaker affectionately. “You always was a generous boy,” she said. “Never could be hired to knock anybody.” “I’m going to knock you, right off this seat, if you don’t tell me without any beating about the bush, where Rosalie Vincent is. I expect to go to Boston in a few days. I might help her choose her hats.” Betsy’s eyes met his earnestly. “Now, look here. You’ve been as good as gold ever since we left the lake. You haven’t asked me a question.” “That’s why you ought to answer me now, instantly.”