them at the school."

"I'd like to see that Winifred Marion chap," declared Bob. "A boy with a
girl's name has his troubles cut out for him, I should say."

"Lots of 'em have girls' names--in history," contributed Betty absently.
"What time do we get into Washington, Bob?"

"Around five, probably six p.m., for we're likely to be a bit late,"
replied Bob. "Let's go to bed now, Betty, and get an early start in
the morning."

The day spent on the train was uneventful, and, contrary to Bob's
expectations, they were on time at every station. Betty's heart beat
faster as the hands of her little wrist watch pointed to 5:45 and the
passengers began to gather up their wraps. The porter came through and
brushed them thoroughly and Betty adjusted her new hat carefully.

The long train slid into the Union Station. With what different
emotions both Bob and Betty had seen the beautiful, brilliantly lighted
building on the occasion of their first trip to Washington! Then each
had been without a friend in the great city, and now they were to be
welcomed by a host.

Betty's cheeks flushed rose-red, but her lovely eyes filled with a sudden
rush of tears.

"I'm so happy!" she whispered to the bewildered Bob.

"Want my handkerchief?" he asked anxiously, at which Betty tried
not to laugh.

CHAPTER VII

FUN AT FAIRFIELDS

The long platform was crowded. Betty followed Bob, who carried their
bags. She tried to peer ahead, but the moving forms blocked her view.
Just after they passed through the gate, some one caught her.

"Betty, you lamb! I never was so glad to see any one in my life!"
cried a gay voice, and Bobby Littell hugged her close in one of her
rare caresses.

Bob Henderson held out his hand as soon as Bobby released Betty. He liked
this straightforward, brusque girl who so evidently adored Betty.

"Why, Bob, you've grown a foot!" was Bobby Littell's greeting to him.

Bob modestly disclaimed any such record, and then Louise and Esther, who
had swooped upon Betty, turned to shake hands with him.

"The rest of the crowd is out in the car," said Bobby carelessly.

Outside the station, in the open plaza, a handsome closed car awaited
them. The gray-haired chauffeur, cap in hand, stood back as a procession
of boys and girls advanced upon Bob and Betty and their escort.

"Oh, Betty, dear!" Short, plump Libbie Littell, who had relinquished
her claim to the name of "Betty" in Betty Gordon's favor some time
ago,