t people in the world than there are dishonest. Come on
now, don't cry."

"I'm not going to cry," declared Betty. "I've cried enough already. Don't
tell the others, Bob. Nor Uncle Dick. I don't want him to know if I can
help it. It looks just as though I didn't prize his present enough to take
care of it."

Somehow, Betty felt encouraged by Bob's taking hold of the matter. The
small car was secured after breakfast and Bob and the two girls set off
for the other side of the river. It was not alone because of Bob's advice
that they stopped first at the little neighborhood shop on the hilly side
street where Betty had bought her sweater. Bobby was anxious to see her
blue sweater, and the two girls ran in as soon as the car halted before
the door.

The little bell over it jingled pleasantly at their entrance; but it was a
tall and rather grim-looking woman who came from the back of the shop to
meet them instead of the English girl with whom Betty had dealt on her
former visit.

"Humph!" said Mrs. Staples, for it was she, when she spied the over-blouse
under Betty's coat. "You are the young lady who was to purchase the blue
blouse when it was finished?"

"For my friend here," said Betty, bringing Bobby forward. "I know she will
like it."

"I hope so," said Mrs. Staples. "It is finished. Ida sat up most of the
night to finish it. Here it is," and she displayed the dark blue blouse
for the girls to see.

"How lovely!" ejaculated Bobby eagerly. "I like it even better than I do
your orange one, Betty. It's sweet."

"It's twelve dollars, Miss," said the shop woman promptly. "You can pay me
and take the blouse. I paid Ida for it."

"Isn't the girl who made it here?" asked Betty anxiously.

"No, she ain't," said Mrs. Staples in her blunt way. "She left an hour
ago."

"Oh! Will she come back?"

"I don't expect her. I am sure I cannot be changing help all the time. She
left me very abruptly. I did not ask her to come back."

"Why," said Betty, wonderingly, "I thought you were her friend. Isn't she
all alone in this country?"

"She is a girl who seems quite able to take care of herself," the grim
shopwoman said. "Or she is determined to try. I advised her to write to
her aunt----"

"Then she has an aunt over here?" cried Betty eagerly.

"So she thinks. An aunt for whom Ida was named. There was some family
trouble, and Ida's father and her father's sister seem to have had nothing
to do with each other for some yea