loped a certain tact or adaptiveness, and loved
pleasantness. She was just a little afraid of Aunt Elizabeth's
sharpness. It was like a biting wind. She always made comparisons in her
mind, and saw things in pictured significance.

It ran over many things now. The old house that had been patched and
patched, and had one corner propped up from outside. The barn that was
propped up all around and had a thatched roof that suggested an immense
haystack. Old Barby crooning songs by the kitchen fire, sweet old Miss
Arabella with her great high cap and her snowy little curls. Why did
Aunt Priscilla think curls wrong? She had a feeling Aunt Elizabeth did
not quite approve of hers, but Betty said the Lord curled them in the
beginning. How sweet Miss Arabella must have been in her youth--yes, she
must surely have been young--when she wore the pretty frocks and went to
the king's palace! She always thought of her when she came to the verses
in the Psalms about the king's daughters and their beautiful attire. If
Betty could have had one of those!

Her heart beat with unwonted joy as she remembered how readily Uncle
Winthrop had consented to her wish. Oh, if the frock would be pretty!
And if Betty would like it! She stole a glance or two at her. How queer
to have a secret from Betty that concerned her so much. Of course people
did not talk about clothes on Sunday, so there would be no temptation to
tell, even if she had a desire, which she should not have. Monday
morning everything would be in a hurry, for it was wash-day, and she
would have to go over her lessons. Uncle Win said the gown would be at
the house Monday noon.

"What are you thinking of, little one?"

Uncle Leverett put his hand over the small one and looked down at the
face, which grew scarlet--or was it the warmth of the fire?

She laughed with a sudden embarrassment.

"I've been to Old Boston," she said, "and to new Boston. And I have seen
such sights of things."

"You had better go to bed. And you have almost burned up your face
sitting so close by the fire. It is bad for the eyes, too," said Aunt
Elizabeth.

She rose with ready obedience.

"I think I'll go too," said Betty with a yawn. The history of the
Reformation was dull and prosy.

When Doris had said her prayers, and was climbing into bed, Betty kissed
her good-night.

"I'm awfully afraid Uncle Win will want you some day," she said. "And I
just couldn't let you go. I wish you were my little sist