adness, a pain that was
akin to joy, and in her present mood she was afraid to play.

But the girls had asked her to, and if it would make them feel any
better--

She struck a chord of exquisite harmony, and every fibre in her seemed
yearningly to respond. She had meant to play something bright and
cheerful, but almost against her will her fingers wandered into Grieg's
"To Spring."

The elusive, plaintive melody floated throbbingly out into the room,
while the girls sat motionless, fascinated. They had never heard Betty
play just this way before, and instinctively they knew that she was
showing them her heart.

She played it through to the last whispering note, then dropped her
head upon her arms and sobbed as though her heart would break.

"You shouldn't have asked me," she said, when they tried to comfort her.
"I knew I couldn't play without making a f-fool of myself. It was the
one--Allen loved best--" the last words so low that they had to bend
close to hear them.

"Poor little Betty!" cried Mollie, stroking her hair gently. "It was
selfish of us to ask you, but you did play it wonderfully," she added
with a sudden little burst of enthusiasm. "You had us all hypnotized."

"And then I had to go and spoil everything by making a baby of myself,"
Betty lamented. "Goodness, I've cried more in the last week than in all
the rest of my life before."

"Well, you have had plenty of company," said Grace dryly. "Though what
comfort that is, I never could see."

Betty sat up, dabbed a last tear from her eyes, and looked about her
with a weak little attempt at a smile.

"Well," she said, "now that Mollie and I have entertained the company, I
wonder who's next?"

"I'll recite that little ditty entitled, 'The Face On the Barroom
Floor'," Amy volunteered. "Some kind person wished it upon me when I was
too young to object."

"Don't you dare," said Grace, alarmed. "If you do I'm going out, rain or
no rain--"

"And get drowned."

"Well, there are worse things."

"No there aren't," denied Amy, with a shiver. "I know, because I tried
it."

At that moment came an interruption in the shape of a sharp rapping at
the kitchen door.

The girls looked at one another questioningly.

"Mercy, I wonder who's calling upon us in this weather?" said Mollie.

"It might be a good idea to look and see," Betty returned dryly, and ran
to the kitchen, followed closely by the others.

She flung open the door, letting in a gust of