lots bettah."

Leaving Lloyd to offer Hero the hospitality of Locust in the midst of her
little black admirers, Betty slowly followed her godmother up the wide
stairs.

"You're to have the same white and gold room again, dear," said Mrs.
Sherman, peeping in as she passed the door. "I see that it is all in
readiness. So walk in and take possession."

Betty was glad that she was alone, those first few minutes, the joy of the
home-coming was so keen. Going in, she shut the door and gave a swift
glance all around, from the dark polished floor, with its white angora
rugs, to the filmy white curtains at the open casement windows. Everything
was just as she had seen it last,--the dear little white dressing-table,
with its crystal candlesticks, that always made her think of twisted
icicles; the little heart-shaped pincushion and all the dainty toilet
articles of ivory and gold; the pictures on the wall; the freshly gathered
plumes of goldenrod in the crystal bowl on the mantel. She stood a moment,
looking out of the open window, and thinking of the year that had gone by
since she last stood in that room. Many a long and perilous mile she had
travelled, but here she was back in safety, and instead of bandaged eyes
and the horror of blindness hovering over her, she was able to look out on
the beautiful world with strong, far-seeing sight.

The drudgery of the Cuckoo's Nest was far behind her now, and the bare
little room under the eaves. Henceforth this was to be her home. She
remembered the day in the church when her godmother's invitation to the
house party reached her, and just as she had knelt then in front of the
narrow, bench-like altar, she knelt now, beside the little white bed.
Now, as then, the late afternoon sun streamed across her brown curls and
shining face, and "_Thank you, dear God_," came in the same grateful
whisper from the depths of the same glad little heart.

"Betty! Betty!" called Lloyd, under her window. "Come and take a run over
the place. I want to show Hero his new home."

Tired of sitting still so long on the cars, Betty was glad to join in the
race over the smooth lawn and green meadows. Out in the pasture, Tarbaby
waited by the bars. The grapevine swing in the mulberry-tree, every nook
and corner where the guests of the house party had romped and played the
summer before, seemed to hold a special greeting for them, and every foot
of ground in old Locust seemed dearer for their long absence.