him with a crooked little smile.

"I don't want you to tell a lie," he countered very softly. "I want
the truth, little Betty. What were you going to say?"

Betty's eyes drooped, and they walked along in silence for a minute.

"Well?" he queried at last, studying her averted profile. "You're not
afraid to tell me, Betty?"

"N-no," she answered, still with her head turned away. "I was only
going to say, that while I'm glad--oh, very glad in one way, I--I'm
not so very glad in another."

"What other?" he asked, leaning over her. "Betty, Betty, tell me,
dear."

Betty hesitated for another moment, then threw up her head defiantly.

"Well," she said, "if you must know--I don't want you to go. I--I'll
be--lonesome--"

"Betty," he cried imploringly, his heart beating like a trip-hammer,
"Betty--wait--"

But she had slipped from him, and had run ahead to join the others,
so that he had no other course but to follow her. His head was in the
clouds--his feet scarcely seemed to touch the ground.

"Well, it's about time you realized you were with us," Mollie