here's Bobby and
Billy--I'm the odd one.'

'Why should you be the odd one?'

'Because Molly and Douglas are the eldest ones, and they always go
together, and Bobby and Billy are the babies. Mother always calls them
the babies, and I come in between, and I belong to no one. You see, in
our games it's generally two and two; I always make everything odd, and
Molly and Douglas are always having secrets, and that only leaves me the
babies to play with, and they're only just four years old--much too small
for me.'

'I suppose you have a doll or something to comfort yourself with? I
remember I used to when I was a little girl.'

'I don't much like dolls,' said Betty, with a decided shake of her curly
head; 'I like something really alive, something that moves by itself.
There's a big sheepdog at our farm called Rough. I sometimes get hold of
him for a game, but he likes Douglas better than me. Sam says he's
always fond of boys.'

'Would you like to come inside my gate?' asked the lady, looking down
upon Betty with a strange tenderness in her eyes, though her lips were
still grave and stern.

Betty slipped her hand confidingly into hers.

'Yes, please; and will you tell me who you are? I think you're rather
like a lady I'm trying to find. She teaches children, a governess she
is, and she's old and young together. You're much more like her than
Mrs. Giles is.'

But the lady did not satisfy Betty's curiosity; she only said,--

'I have never taught any children in my life,' and led her up the grassy
walk to the gate in the wall.

'I am only going to let you stand inside for a moment, and then you must
run away. And you must never come over the wire netting in the wood
again. You and your brothers and sister can play in the other part of
the wood, but I will not have children running over my private walks.'

She opened the gate, and Betty saw a lovely flower garden, with a smooth,
grassy lawn, and away in the distance a great white house. The flowers
were exquisite, and to Betty's London eyes they were a feast of delight.
Her little face flushed with pleasure.

'Do you live here?' she asked. 'How happy you must be!'

'Do you like it better than my wood?'

Betty turned from the blaze of sunshine and brightness to look at the
cool green glade behind her. She did not answer for a minute, then she
said, pointing with her small finger down the grassy avenue,--

'It's something like church down there, it lo