olks. She could have a little supper for them in the evening, and
ask them to come and read with her; or perhaps she might propose to read
some good story to them, and some poetry. They ought to know something
of the great poets. Miss Mary Leicester was taken up with the important
business of her own invalidism, but it might be a very good thing for
her to take some part in such pleasant plans. Under all Aunt Barbara's
shyness and habit of formality Betty had discovered her warm and
generous heart. They had become fast friends, and, to tell the truth,
Aunt Mary was beginning to have an uneasy and wistful consciousness that
she was causing herself to be left out of many pleasures.

The gloom and general concern at the time of the Fosters' sorrow had
caused the first club meeting to be postponed until early in August; and
then, though August weather would not seem so good for out-of-door
expeditions, this one Wednesday dawned like a cool, clear June day, and
at three o'clock the fresh easterly wind had not ceased to blow and yet
had not brought in any seaward clouds. There were eleven boys and girls,
and Miss Barbara Leicester made twelve, while with the two Picknells the
club counted fourteen. The Fosters promised to come later in the summer,
but they did not feel in the least hurt because some of their friends
urged them to join in cheerful company this very day. It seemed to Betty
as if Nelly looked brighter and somehow unafraid, now that the first
miserable weeks had gone. It may have been that poor Nelly was
lighter-hearted already than she often had been in her father's
lifetime.

Betty and Mary Beck walked together, at first; but George Max asked Mary
to walk with him, so they parted. Betty liked Harry Foster better than
any other of the boys, and really missed him to-day. She was brimful of
plans about persuading her father to help Harry to study natural
history. While the club was getting ready to walk two by two, Betty
suddenly remembered that she was an odd one, and hastily took her place
between the Grants, insisting that they three must lead the procession.
The timid Grants were full of fun that day, for a wonder, and a merry
head to the procession they were with Betty, walking fast and walking
slowly, and leading the way by short cuts across-country with great
spirit. They called a halt to pick huckleberries, and they dared the
club to cross a wide brook on insecure stepping-stones. Everybody made
fun for e