. She really was beginning to wish
most heartily that she were good, and like every one else wished for the
approval of others as well as for the peace of her own conscience. This
was a black-mark day when she had neither, and she thought about her
life more intently than usual. When she liked herself everybody liked
her, but when she was on bad terms with herself everybody else seemed
ready to join in the stern disapproval. Papa was always ready to lend a
helping hand at such times, but papa was far away. Nothing was so
pleasant as usual that morning, and a fog of discouragement seemed to
shut out all the sunshine in Betty Leicester's heart. She did not often
get low-spirited, but for that hour all the excitement of coming to
Tideshead and being liked and befriended by her old friends had vanished
and left only a miserable hopelessness in its place. The road of life
appeared to lead nowhere, and perhaps our friend missed the constant
change and excitement of interest brought to her by living alongside
such a busy, inspiriting life as her father's. Here in Tideshead she had
to provide her own motive power instead of being tributary to a stronger
current.

"I don't seem to have anything to do," thought Betty. "I used to be so
busy all the time last spring in London and never had half time enough,
and now everything is raveling out instead of knitting up. I poke
through the days hoping something nice will happen, just like the
Tideshead girls." This thought came with a curious flash of
self-recognition such as rarely comes, and always is the minute of
inspiration. "I must think and think what to do," Betty went on, leaning
her cheek on her hand and looking off at the blue mountains far to the
northward. There was a tuft of rudbeckias in bloom near by, and just
then the breeze made them bow at her as if they were watching and
approved her serious thoughts. They had indeed a friendly and cheering
look, as if there were still much hope in life, and Betty forgot herself
for a minute as she was suddenly conscious of their companionship. She
even gave the gay yellow flowers a friendly nod, and resolved to carry
some of them home to the aunts. It would be a good thing to make a rule
for devoting the first half hour after breakfast to the care of her
clothes and that sort of thing: then she could take the next hour for
her writing. But it was often very pleasant to scurry down into the
garden or to the yard for a word with Jonath