naturedly, "Hello, stickin'-plaster, where's Betty?
Somewhere around here, I'll bet anything, or you wouldn't be here.
I've got a letter for her."

At that, Betty leaned so far out of the window that she nearly lost her
balance and toppled over. "Oh, run and get it, quick, Davy," she cried.
The little bare feet twinkled through the grass to meet the old sorrel
horse, and two brown hands were held up to receive the letter; but Jake
preferred to deliver the important document himself.

"Here you are," he said, riding alongside the window and dropping the
letter into her eager hands.

"Oh, _thank_ you, Jake," she cried. "It makes me feel as if Christmas
was coming. I never got a letter in my life except in my Christmas
boxes. My godmother always writes to me then, and this must be from her,
too. Yes, it is, I know her handwriting."

If Jake expected her to tear it open instantly and share the news with
him before she had examined every inch of the big square envelope, he
was disappointed. The old blaze-faced sorrel had carried him out of
sight before she had finished cutting it open with a pin. Then she
spread the letter out on her knees, drawing a long breath of pleasure as
the faintest odour of violets floated up from the paper with its dainty
monogram at the top.

Davy waited in silence, watching a flush spread over Betty's face as
she read. Her breath came short and her heart beat fast.

"Oh, Davy," she exclaimed, in a low, wondering tone. "What do you think?
It is an invitation to a house party at Locust; Lloyd Sherman's house
party. Oh, it's like a lovely, lovely fairy tale with me for the
princess. I've never travelled on the cars since I was old enough to
remember it, and they've sent passes for me to go. I've never had any
girls to play with in all my life, and now there will be two besides
Lloyd; and, oh, Davy, best of all, I'll see my beautiful, beautiful
godmother! I shall be there a whole month, and she knew my mamma and was
her dearest friend. I haven't seen her since I was a baby, when she came
to my christening, and of course I can't remember anything about that."

Davy listened to her raptures without saying anything for awhile. Then
he set aside his usual custom and asked a question. "Why are you
crying?" he demanded. "There's a tear running down the side of your
nose."

"Is there?" asked Betty, brushing it away with the back of her hand. "I
didn't know it. Maybe it's because I am so glad. It see