o away, when the time came. Poor Aunt Mary fairly
cried, and said that she was going to try hard to be better in health,
so that she could do more for Betty when she came next year, and she
should miss their reading together, sadly; and Aunt Barbara held Betty
very close for a minute, and said, "God bless you, my darling," though
she had never called her "my darling" before.

And Captain Beck came over to say good-by, and wished that they could
have gone down by the packet boat, as Betty came, and gave our friend a
little brass pocket-compass, which he had carried to sea many years. The
minister came to call in the evening, with his girls; and the dear old
doctor came in next morning, though he was always in a hurry, and kissed
Betty most kindly, and held her hand in both his, while he said that he
had lost a good deal of practice, lately, because she kept the young
folks stirring, and he did not know about letting her come back another
summer.

But when poor Mrs. Foster came, with Nelly, and thanked Betty for
bringing a ray of sunshine into her sad home, it was almost too much to
bear; and good-by must be said to Becky, and that was harder than
anything, until they tried to talk about what they would do next
summer, and how often they must write to each other in the winter months
between.

"Why, sometimes I have been afraid that you didn't like me," said Betty,
as her friend's tears again began to fall.

"It was only because I didn't like myself," said dear Becky forlornly.
It was a most sad and affectionate leave-taking, but there were many
things that Becky would like to think over when her new old friend had
fairly gone.

"I never felt as if I really belonged to any place, until now. You must
always say that I am Betty Leicester of Tideshead," said Betty to her
father, after she had looked back in silence from the car window for a
long time. Aunt Barbara had come to the station with them, and was
taking the long drive home alone, with only Jonathan and the slow
horses. Betty's thoughts followed her all along the familiar road. Last
night she had put the little red silk shawl back into her trunk with a
sorry sigh. Everybody had been so good to her, while she had done so
little for any one!

But Aunt Barbara was really dreading to go back to the old house, she
knew that she should miss Betty so much.

Papa was reading already; he always read in the cars himself, but he
never liked to have Betty do so. He look