advantages, and it is no easy matter living up to all the expectations
of a family like the old Colonel's."

Betty's back was turned to the terraces, but Dora, who faced them,
happened to look up just then. "There she comes now," she cried in
alarm. "Hide the letter! Quick, or she'll see you!"

Glancing over her shoulder, Betty saw, not only the four girls she had
run away from, but four others, running down the terraces, taking the
flight of marble steps two at a time. Gay's shoe-strings were tripping
her at every leap, and Lloyd's hair had shaken down around her shoulders
in a shining mass in the wild race from the orchard.

Lloyd reached the willow first. Dropping down on the bench, almost
breathless, she began fanning herself with her hat.

"Oh!" she gasped. "Tell me quick, Betty! What is the mattah? Cornie Dean
said a messenger boy had just come out to the Hall on a bicycle with a
special-delivery lettah from home. I was so suah something awful had
happened I could hardly run, it frightened me so."

"And we thought maybe something had happened at 'The Beeches,'"
interrupted Allison, "and that mamma had written to you to break the
news to us."

"Why, nothing at all is the matter," answered Betty, calmly, darting a
quick look at Dora to see if her face was betraying anything. "It was
just a little note from godmother. She wanted me to attend to something
for her."

"But why should she send it by special delivery if it isn't impawtant?"
asked Lloyd, in an aggrieved tone.

"It is important," laughed Betty. "Very."

"For goodness' sake, what is it, then?" demanded Lloyd. "Don't tease me
by keeping me in suspense, Betty. You know that anything about mothah or
The Locusts must concern me, too, and that I am just as much interested
in the special lettah as you are. I should think it would be just as
much my business as yoah's."

"This does concern you," admitted Betty, "and I'm dying to tell you, but
godmother doesn't want you to know until to-morrow."

"To-morrow," echoed Lloyd, much puzzled. Then her face lighted up. "Oh,
it's about my birthday present. Tell me what it is _now_, Betty," she
wheedled. "I'd lots rathah know now than to wait. I could be enjoying
the prospect of having whatevah it is all the rest of the day."

Betty clapped her hands over her mouth, and rocked back and forth on the
bench, her eyes shining mischievously.

"_Do_ go away," she begged. "_Don't_ ask me! It's so lovely that I can