me," groaned Bobby, holding her chum's hand tightly.

"Guess there are worse things than measles in this world," observed Bob,
as he stopped the small car under the _porte cochere_ at Fairfields.

CHAPTER IX

THE LIVE WIRE OCTETTE

It was not an easy thing to do; but Betty Gordon did it. She confessed the
whole wretched thing to Uncle Dick and was assured of his forgiveness. But
perhaps his serious forgiveness was not the easiest thing for the girl to
bear.

"I am sure, as you say, that you did not mean to be careless," Mr. Richard
Gordon said gently. It was hard for him to be strict with Betty; but he
knew her impulsiveness sometimes led her into a reckless path. "But mark
you, Betty: The value of that locket should have, in itself, made you
particularly careful of it."

"I--I valued it more because you gave it to me, Uncle Dick," she sobbed.

"And yet that did not make you particularly careful," the gentleman
reminded her. "The main trouble with you, Betty, is that you have no very
clear appreciation of the value of money."

"Oh, Uncle Dick!" and she looked at him with trembling chin and tears
welling into her eyes.

"And why should you?" he added, laughing more lightly and patting her
hand. "You have never been obliged to earn money. Think back to the time
you were with the Peabodys. The money my lawyer sent you for your own use
just burned holes in your pinafore pockets, didn't it?"

"I didn't wear pinafores, Uncle Dick," Betty said soberly. "Girls don't
nowadays."

"No, I see they don't," he rejoined, smiling broadly again. "But they did
in my day. However, in whatever pocket you put that money as you got it,
the hole was figuratively burned, wasn't it?"

"We--ell, it went mostly for food. Mr. Peabody was such a miser!
And--and----"

"And so when you wanted to come away from Bramble Farm you actually had to
borrow money," went on Uncle Dick. "Of course, you were fortunate enough
finally to get the lawyer's check and pay your debts. But the fact remains
that you seem unable to keep money."

"Oh, Uncle Dick!"

"Now," continued her guardian still soberly, "a miser like Mr. Peabody for
instance is a very unpleasant person. But a spendthrift often does even
more harm in the world than a miser. I don't want my Betty-girl to be a
spendthrift."

"Oh, Uncle Dick!"

"The loss of your pretty locket, my dear, has come because of that trait
in your character which ignores a proper appreciation of t