BNIV. OF CALIF. LIBRARY. LOfi
 
 [See p. 220 
 
 "BETTY HAMILTON, FOLLOWED BY BROWNIE, APPROACHED THROUGH 
 THE WOODS"
 
 Miss BETTY 
 
 OF NEW YORK 
 
 BY 
 
 ELLEN DOUGLAS DELANO 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 "A LITTLE SON OF SUNSHINE " 
 "OAKLKIGH" ETC. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 RACHAEL ROBINSON 
 
 HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS 
 
 NEW YORK AND LONDON
 
 The Girls' Library 
 
 Illustrated Jackets Printed in Colors 
 
 MAY IVERSON HER BOOK. By Elizabeth Jordan 
 MAY IVERSON TACKLES LIFE. By Elizabeth Jordan 
 MAY IVERSON'S CAREER. By Elizabeth Jordan 
 OAKLEIGH. By Ellen Douglas Deland 
 ALAN RANSFORD. By Ellen Douglas Deland 
 JOSEPHINE. By Ellen Douglas Deland 
 IN THE OLD HERRICK HOUSE. By Ellen Douglas Deland 
 A LITTLE SON OF SUNSHINE. By Ellen Douglas Deland 
 Miss BETTY OF NEW YORK. By Ellen Douglas Deland 
 LIBERTY HALL. By Florence Hull Winterburn 
 BETTY BELL. By Fannie Kilbourne 
 REBECCA MARY. By Annie Hamilton Donnell 
 
 Copyright, 1908, by HARPBR & BROTHERS. 
 C-Z
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 "BETTY HAMILTON, FOLLOWED BY BROWNIE, AP- 
 PROACHED THROUGH THE WOODS " . . . Frontitpiece 
 
 '"I'LL GIVE YOU THE NICEST NAME I CAN THINK 
 
 OP, DEAREST/ HE WHISPERED 7 ' . . . . facing p. 96 
 
 " ' THEY ARE INDIANS PLANNING TO SCALP AND 
 
 MASSACRE US'" " 150 
 
 "*I SHALL ALWAYS WEAR IT ALL MY LIFE LONG,' 
 
 SHE SAID" " 280 
 
 2129067
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK
 
 MISS BETTY 
 OF NEW YORK 
 
 remember, Christopher. Ten blocks 
 down and then turn and walk back. Don't 
 leave Madison Avenue. Straight down and 
 straight back. You understand?" 
 
 "Oh yes, I understand, grandfather." 
 
 "I feel strongly inclined to send Thomas with 
 you." 
 
 "Oh, grandfather ! Please, please don't. Please 
 let me go alone ! I can perfectly well. I will do 
 just as you say, only I do so want to go alone!" 
 
 "I cannot imagine why. Thomas could walk 
 behind you. Surely you do not dislike Thomas ?" 
 
 "Oh no! I like him. But I do want to go 
 alone. And you said I could, grandfather. You 
 promised." 
 
 "So I did. Well, go." 
 
 In a moment the front door closed and Chris- 
 3
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 topher Lovel started on his first walk alone in the 
 streets of New York. 
 
 He was a boy of eleven or twelve years old, and 
 he lived with his grandfather, General Baldwin 
 Keith. His father and mother were dead, and 
 he had no other near relatives. He had not 
 always lived with his grandfather. In fact, until 
 the preceding summer he had not even known 
 him, for the General had not approved of his 
 daughter's marriage, and during Christopher's 
 early childhood he had not even seen him. Now, 
 however, he loved him dearly, and with such 
 strength of affection that he would scarcely allow 
 him out of his sight. The boy was lame, and this 
 fact made the grandfather still more careful of 
 him. But as he walked down Madison Avenue, 
 except for the fact that he carried a cane, his 
 lameness was scarcely noticeable. He had been 
 injured by an accident several years ago, but the 
 crutches which he had been obliged to use were 
 now no longer necessary, and no one would have 
 imagined that the boy had but one leg. 
 
 He was a tall boy, but with a face that was sin- 
 gularly childlike for one of his age. His hair was 
 fair and his eyes were blue, and their expression 
 was so friendly, his face so sunny, that more than 
 one person who passed him turned to look at him 
 a second tune. 
 
 It was a beautiful day in early spring. There
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 had been rain during the night, but now the sun 
 was shining, and in the parks and squares the grass 
 had turned green, and small beginnings of buds 
 could be discovered on trees and bushes. A long 
 double procession of carriages, automobiles, and 
 wagons passed up and down the avenue, with the 
 rumble and roar that are never absent from the 
 streets of New York. On the sidewalks there 
 was another double procession of persons walking, 
 though not in such close ranks. But there was 
 life and movement everywhere, and Chris rejoiced 
 in being part of it. 
 
 "I wish I could meet Betty Hamilton," he 
 thought. "Oh, I just wish I could meet her, or 
 see her in a window or something! She lives on 
 Madison Avenue; I remember that. I suppose 
 grandfather knows the number, but if I had 
 asked him what it was he would have told me I 
 couldn't go there. It is so funny grandfather 
 doesn't like to have me go with other children. 
 I do wish I could find Betty, though. I'll ask 
 Cousin Ludovic when I see him." 
 
 As if in answer to his thought, a girl came 
 running across the street from the opposite side 
 of the way, dodging beneath horses' heads, and 
 behind and in front of puffing automobiles, in a 
 manner only possible to a resident of New York. 
 She was followed by an elderly woman, whose 
 face wore an expression of protest, although she 
 5
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 was too far behind for her words to be heard 
 above the din of traffic. The girl was about 
 eleven or twelve years old in fact, just the age 
 of Christopher. She, too, was tall and very 
 straight, and her hair, which was rather short, 
 was red and curly. She dashed across the street, 
 stopped short directly in front of Christopher, 
 and seized both of his hands in her own. 
 
 "Chris Lovel!" she cried. "Where did you 
 come from? And were you coming to see me? 
 And where are your crutches? Don't you need 
 crutches any more?" 
 
 " Oh, Betty !" said Chris. For a moment it was 
 all he could say. He was so glad to see her that 
 it made him feel dumb. But Betty had voice 
 and words enough for both. 
 
 "I saw you from the other side of the way, and 
 I could scarcely believe my eyes. It didn't seem 
 as if it could be you without crutches. How 
 do you manage?" 
 
 But before he could reply the elderly woman, 
 who had pursued Betty across the street, had 
 joined them. 
 
 "It's a wonder you were not run over, Miss 
 Betty," she said, severely, "dashing across in the 
 most crowded place like that. And who is this, 
 if you please?" 
 
 "Why, it's Chris Lovel! You know who he is. 
 He was at Maybury last summer. Chris, this is 
 6
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Gertrude. She's walking home from school with 
 me, and she hates so to cross anywhere but at 
 crossings that she's cross. See?" 
 
 Both children laughed, and Chris looked up 
 into Gertrude's worthy German face with so 
 friendly an expression that her own relaxed and 
 she smiled, too, at Betty's joke. 
 
 "Come along to our house," said Betty. "Were 
 you coming there, anyway?" 
 
 "I didn't know which it was," replied Chris, 
 "but I've been looking at all these houses and 
 wishing I knew, or that I could see you, and then 
 you came running over. My grandfather lives 
 on this street, too." 
 
 "Oh yes, I know the house. Everybody 
 knows General Keith's house, it is so big and 
 grand. It has seemed so funny all winter, Chris, 
 whenever I passed there coming home from school, 
 to think you would be living there. Uncle 
 Ludovic told me you were coming home from 
 abroad, but he said you were going right up to 
 Maybury." 
 
 " So we are soon. We only got here day before 
 yesterday. I hope we shall stay here awhile. 
 I like New York better than Europe. It is so gay, 
 and there's such a blue sky, and the sun shines so 
 much more." 
 
 "Here is our house. Can't you come in and 
 see my dog? And perhaps mamma is at home." 
 
 7
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "I don't know whether grandfather would 
 like it," said Christopher, hesitating at the foot 
 of the steps while Betty ran up and pulled the 
 bell. 
 
 "Oh, why not? Why, we are almost your 
 relations, now that my aunt Edith has married 
 your cousin Ludovic. Your grandfather couldn't 
 possibly object to your knowing us." 
 
 "Oh, I didn't mean that, but you see " He 
 hesitated again. He did not wish to tell Betty 
 that this was the first time he had been to walk 
 alone. It seemed so very babyish. If only his 
 grandfather would treat him more like a big boy! 
 However, there was no help for it. He must 
 explain. "You see, I don't usually go out alone. 
 My grandfather thinks I can't find my way, so 
 he said I could only walk ten blocks down and 
 then turn and go back." 
 
 "That's all right, then," cried Betty. "We're 
 only eight blocks down from your house, and 
 coming in won't count for anything. You've 
 just got to turn and go back when you come out. 
 Oh, come along in!" 
 
 Thus urged, Christopher followed her up the 
 steps and into the house, for the door had now 
 been opened. A little brown Boston terrier with 
 a snub nose and big brown eyes rushed to greet 
 Betty, and included Christopher in his welcome, 
 much to the boy's delight. 
 8
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "His name is Brownie," said Betty, "and he is 
 a very dear dog, and hardly ever does any mis- 
 chief. Only once in a while he runs off with 
 Florence's slipper or gloves or something. Florence 
 is my grown-up sister. She is out in society this 
 winter, so she thinks she has to be very digni- 
 fied and high and mighty about her things, and 
 Brown just loves to tease her. So do I, and I get 
 lots of chances, for she is the kind of person you 
 can tease very easily. Let's go up-stairs now. 
 I'll show you our play-room. We children have 
 a place all to ourselves, and Charles and Pauline 
 are both out now, so there won't be anybody 
 there." 
 
 "Are they your brother and sister?" asked 
 Chris, as they mounted two long flights of stairs 
 and walked through a passageway to a large, 
 sunny room on the front of the house. 
 
 "Yes, and you can be perfectly thankful you 
 are the only one, or at least not the youngest. 
 Charles and Pauline think just because they are 
 older than I am they can do just what they like. 
 That's Charles's railroad you are looking at. He 
 won't allow any one to touch it. He is inventing 
 something. That is Pauline's corner over there 
 where the desk is. Pauline writes poetry, so she 
 has to have the desk. You may be perfectly 
 thankful you haven't a brother who is an inventor 
 
 and a sister who is a poetess, Chris." 
 
 9
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Are your brother and sister really that?" 
 
 His interest was plainly evident. What if he 
 should admire such eccentric individuals! Such 
 a thought was not to be tolerated for a moment. 
 
 "Yes, I'm sorry to say they are, and it is not 
 at all convenient. They are just absorbed in 
 their own pursuits." 
 
 "You are just as wonderful as ever," said 
 Christopher. "You use such beautiful, long 
 words. You must be a very remarkable family." 
 
 "Well, I suppose we are," returned Betty, 
 complacently. "But you will soon get to know 
 us all very well, for we are all going to be at 
 Maybury this summer. My father has bought 
 an old farm-house there. But you will always 
 have me for your most intimate friend in the 
 family, won't you, Chris? Promise me that. I 
 know you will find I am more congenial than an 
 inventor or a poetess." 
 
 He was delighted to promise it. He had never 
 liked any one of his own age as much as Betty. 
 He had many friends among older people, but 
 Betty stood alone as the most fascinating, the 
 most bewitching of children. 
 
 "I like you better than any person I know 
 who is under fourteen," said he. "I shall be very 
 glad to have you for my most intimate friend." 
 
 "All right," said Betty, "and you shall be 
 mine while I am at Maybury. Of course, away 
 10
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 from there here in New York, I mean there 
 are lots of girls, and boys, too, as to that, who are 
 very intimate friends of mine. You couldn't 
 expect me to put you ahead of them all the year 
 round." 
 
 "No," said Christopher oolitely, but sadly, 
 "I suppose not." 
 
 There was an instant's pause. "Does Rachel 
 Amy Martin live at May bury now?" asked Betty. 
 
 "Oh yes." 
 
 "Is she under fourteen?" 
 
 "Oh no. Going on fifteen, I think." 
 
 "Then she might " But before Betty could 
 finish her sentence her mother came into the 
 room. "Oh, mamma, this is Chris Hamilton! 
 Don't you know, he was at the Toppan Farm 
 last summer and found his grandfather so unex- 
 pectedly? And wasn't it funny: I just happened 
 to see him on the other side of the street when 
 I was coming home from school!" 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton greeted the boy kindly and 
 cordially. She looked with interest at the grand- 
 son of General Keith, of whom she had heard so 
 much. 
 
 "We did not know you were in New York," 
 she said. "Has your grandfather opened his 
 house?" 
 
 "Yes. We haven't been there long, and it is 
 
 such a great big house I don't like it very much. 
 11
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 I must go back now, or he will think I have lost 
 my way. I am so glad I met Betty." 
 
 "Can't you stay and see her a little while? 
 We will telephone your grandfather and tell him 
 where you are, if you think he will be anxious." 
 
 "Grandfather hasn't a telephone. He doesn't 
 like them. We play the violin a good deal, and 
 he thinks the telephone would always be ringing 
 when he wanted to play. He doesn't like to be 
 interrupted. I think I must go now, but I should 
 like to come again and see Bettv if he will let 
 me." 
 
 "Couldn't you come to luncheon with us to- 
 morrow? We have it at half-past one, and I 
 shall be very glad to see you. Will you tell 
 your grandfather so? Perhaps he will not be 
 sorry to have you come where there are some 
 other children." 
 
 "I don't think grandfather cares anything 
 about that," said Christopher, looking up at her 
 with his frank blue eyes. "He would rather 
 have me stay with him. He wouldn't let me go 
 with any children when we were travelling. Up 
 at Maybury I only go to Toppan Farm to see 
 Mr. and Mrs. Toppan, and they are grown up, 
 and I go there because they are the ones who 
 really found me." 
 
 "Then you don't go with Rachel Amy Martin?" 
 
 asked Betty. 
 
 12
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "No, I don't see her very often." 
 
 "It's splendid that you don't have to use 
 crutches any more," said Betty; "but do you 
 always have to carry that cane?" 
 
 The boy's face saddened. Then the color 
 spread over it and his eyes kindled. He spoke 
 with eagerness. "Not always, and I sha'n't have 
 to very long. And it's better than crutches. 
 When I first began to use crutches I thought they 
 were grand, and now I think my new leg is grand. 
 You would hardly know it isn't a real live leg, 
 would you?" 
 
 "I'd never know it at all." 
 
 "I'm so glad!" 
 
 Presently he had said good-bye and was walk- 
 ing up Madison Avenue, going as rapidly as pos- 
 sible, for he was quite sure his grandfather must 
 already be anxious about him.
 
 n 
 
 /CHRISTOPHER felt very happy himself, even 
 \J though his grandfather might be displeased 
 with him. He had seen again and had talked 
 with Betty Hamilton, and if his grandfather 
 would only give him permission he was to take 
 luncheon at her house to-morrow. He was not 
 at all sure that General Keith would be willing, 
 but at least he had the hope. And even if he 
 could not go, he could rejoice in the thought of 
 having seen Betty and having found that she had 
 not forgotten him and was "just as nice as ever." 
 And they were coming to Maybury for the 
 summer! He hoped with all his heart that his 
 grandfather would not object to his playing with 
 her occasionally, and perhaps with her brothers 
 and sisters and cousins. Chris had not a very 
 clear idea of how many there were. He thought 
 of Betty as a fascinating and fortunate young 
 person, surrounded by a large circle of admiring 
 and affectionate relatives, all eager to do just 
 as she wished, and all loving her better than they 
 could possibly love any one else for surely there 
 
 14
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 could be no one in the world more worthy of 
 affectionate admiration than Betty Hamilton. 
 
 Christopher had very few relatives; his grand- 
 father, a great-aunt, and some grown-up second 
 cousins were the extent of his family. Until less 
 than a year ago he had not known even of them. 
 He had supposed himself to be an orphan with 
 no kindred. Then, by a strange combination of 
 circumstances, it had been discovered that he 
 was the grandson of General Keith, and from 
 being a poor and homeless little boy he had sud- 
 denly become a person of importance, the idol of 
 his grandfather, and in all probability the heir of 
 his wealth, although that part of it had not as 
 yet occurred to Christopher. Since then his life 
 had been totally different from all that had gone 
 before. Part of the time had been passed at 
 Maybury, where General Keith owned a large and 
 beautiful estate, and part in travelling, for early 
 in the winter the old man had become restless, 
 and with sudden determination went abroad, 
 taking Christopher with him, and his faithful man 
 Thomas. That Chris was lame was a never-failing 
 source of sorrow to General Keith. It was said 
 by those who knew the proud old General that he 
 blamed himself for it. Had he not refused to 
 pardon his daughter for marrying against his 
 wishes, the little boy would never have been in- 
 jured; for he was playing his violin in the street 
 a 15
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 for money when the accident happened which 
 cost him his leg. 
 
 When the boy reached home the door was 
 opened immediately by a man who seemed to 
 have been watching for him. 
 
 "Oh, Master Christopher/' he said, in a tone 
 of relief, "I am very glad you've come! The 
 General is worried to death." 
 
 "But why, Thomas? He told me I could go 
 to walk." 
 
 "Yes, Master Christopher, but you've been 
 gone longer than the General thought you'd 
 ought to be. He " 
 
 Thomas paused abruptly, for a voice was heard 
 calling from up-stairs. 
 
 "Is that you, Christopher?" 
 
 "Yes, grandfather," the boy shouted, in his 
 cheerful young voice a sharp contrast to the 
 querulous old tones that summoned him. 
 
 "Why don't you come up at once? And why 
 did you not tell me, Thomas, the moment he 
 arrived? Such negligence is " 
 
 "Oh, grandfather, Thomas didn't have time! 
 I've just this second come in. Here I am," he 
 continued, pulling himself up the stairs by the 
 balusters. "I've had such fun! I've found 
 Betty, grandfather Betty Hamilton, you know; 
 Cousin Edith's niece. She was up at Maybury 
 
 16
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 at the Toppan Farm last summer, and I didn't 
 suppose I'd ever see her again." 
 
 "I don't know why not, if she is your cousin 
 Edith's niece. I should suppose it the most nat- 
 ural thing to expect that you should eventu- 
 ally meet her again. So that is what detained 
 you! I wish, Christopher, that you would re- 
 member how anxious I must necessarily be when 
 you are absent so long. I told you, I think, ten 
 blocks down should be the limit of your walk." 
 
 "And so it was, grandfather. The Harniltons 
 live just eight blocks and a half from here. I 
 counted very carefully. I saw Betty in the 
 street, and it was such good luck! I am sorry 
 you were worried, but I didn't know I was gone 
 too long." 
 
 He had slipped his hand into his grandfather's, 
 and together they walked into the library a large 
 front room, from the windows of which the Gen- 
 eral had been watching, moving from one to the 
 other in restless impatience, and from there to the 
 head of the stairs to listen. He looked down 
 at the boy beside him now, and his stern face grew 
 more tender. It was easy to see that all the 
 affection he was capable of feeling was given to 
 his grandson. Chris glanced up fearlessly and 
 talked with perfect freedom. There were very 
 few persons who did not regard General Keith 
 with awe, and many who disliked him; but he 
 17
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 and Christopher had been on terms of friendship 
 since the beginning of their acquaintance, before 
 they knew of the close relationship existing be- 
 tween them, and their life together had only 
 served to strengthen this feeling. Christopher's 
 faith in the love and goodness of others, a faith 
 which he was unconscious of, but which was one 
 of the strongest traits in his character, invariably 
 served to awaken the love and goodness which, 
 although it may long lie dormant, is hidden some- 
 where beneath the coldest, the most unpromising 
 exterior. It never occurred to him that people 
 would regard him with indifference or dislike, 
 and so they rarely did. There is profound truth 
 in the saying that we usually find what we look 
 for in the attitude of our fellow-beings toward 
 ourselves. 
 
 They seated themselves in their customary 
 places, the General in a large leather arm-chair 
 which stood by the library table, Christopher in 
 a smaller arm-chair which faced the other. Sit- 
 ting thus they carried on many conversations, 
 and wherever they chanced to be staying two 
 chairs were invariably arranged for them to 
 occupy in this manner. 
 
 "Now, sir, give an account of yourself." The 
 words were harsh, and so was the tone, and so 
 was the face except for the eyes ; they rested on 
 the boy with immense love in their gaze. 
 
 18
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Well, I was so surprised to see Betty! She 
 came running across the street to speak to me, 
 and we were near her house; and when we got 
 there she wanted me to go in, and I thought I 
 would. You see, I hadn't seen her for almost a 
 year and she is the most splendid girl, grand- 
 father! She knows more games than anybody I 
 ever knew except Agnes, a girl I knew at the 
 Home. She" 
 
 "Never mind about Agnes at the Home. I 
 have often told you that part of your life must be 
 forgotten." 
 
 "I can't exactly forget, grandfather, for you 
 know they were my friends. I should hate to 
 forget friends. Shouldn't you? But, of course, I 
 don't have to talk about them if you would rather 
 I didn't." 
 
 "Go on with your account of to-day. I sup- 
 pose this Betty is a daughter of Charles Hamilton. 
 You say she is a niece of Ludovic's wife. I re- 
 member she was at Maybury with her aunt. A 
 very mischievous young person. Charles Hamil- 
 ton's daughter, of course." 
 
 "I don't know her father's name, but she has 
 a brother Charles. I've never seen him, but 
 Betty has talked about him a lot. And she has 
 a mother oh, such a beautiful mother, grand- 
 father!" The boy leaned back in his chair and 
 sighed heavily. "It must be a perfectly won- 
 
 19
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 derful thing always to have a mother who looks 
 like that." 
 
 "I didn't know Charles Hamilton married a 
 beauty." 
 
 "It isn't that she is so pretty, but she looked 
 so oh, so kind! I do love people like that." 
 He paused, and his face grew tender. It was a 
 face which changed with the passing thoughts. 
 He was thinking of his own mother, whom he 
 could scarcely remember. Indeed, all that he 
 could recall was the way in which she had kissed 
 him. He did not speak of this now. He had 
 discovered long ago that his grandfather did not 
 care to have him talk about his mother, although 
 she had been his only daughter. 
 
 General Keith, guessing his thought, urged him 
 to continue his story. "What else happened?" 
 he asked. 
 
 "Well, they asked me to come to lunch to- 
 morrow, grandfather. Do you think you could 
 possibly allow me to go? I want to so very 
 much." 
 
 General Keith was silent for a moment. Then 
 he turned abruptly away from the eager blue 
 eyes. He took up a book that was lying on the 
 table beside him. 
 
 "We start for Maybury to-morrow," he said, 
 rather gruffly. 
 
 Christopher was astonished. He was accus- 
 20
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 tomed to sudden changes of plan on the part of 
 General Keith, but he had understood that im- 
 portant business must be attended to in New 
 York, and they had been there but a week. He 
 wished with all his heart that he had discovered 
 Betty's abode sooner. 
 
 "Oh, I'm sorry!" he exclaimed. "Do we really 
 have to go quite so soon, grandfather?" 
 
 "Certainly. And it was only this morning that 
 you informed me that you preferred Maybury to 
 New York." 
 
 "But that was before I found Betty." 
 
 "Betty or no Betty, we go to-morrow. And 
 now you may leave me. Ring for Thomas." 
 
 The boy walked to the bell and pressed it. 
 Before he left the room he came back to his grand- 
 father's side and stood there. 
 
 "Well, what is it now?" asked the General, 
 testily. 
 
 "I've got to write and say I can't come." 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "Shall I write to Mrs. Hamilton or Betty?" 
 
 "Either both anything you like. Don't 
 trouble me with that now, Christopher. I have 
 too many arrangements to attend to." 
 
 Christopher went to his own room, and sat down 
 at his desk. He was quite sure that this plan to go 
 to the country the following day had not occurred 
 
 to his grandfather until he had been told of the 
 
 21
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 invitation to luncheon. He had been in no 
 hurry to leave the city, and he had seemed to 
 have plenty of time at his disposal to listen to 
 Christopher. It was all in keeping, however, 
 with what he knew of his grandfather's nature. 
 He did not wish him to lunch at the Hamiltons', 
 and in his usual hasty way had determined to 
 leave town to avoid it, instead of following the 
 simpler plan of refusing to allow him to accept 
 the invitation. General Keith was apt to decide 
 hastily and then stick to his resolution, even when 
 further reflection might make it seem unwise to 
 do so. Christopher had not really expected to 
 be allowed again to go to the Hamiltons', so he 
 was not disappointed. He was only sorry. He 
 consoled himself by writing two notes, as his 
 grandfather had said that it would be permissible. 
 He liked to write, and it was never difficult for 
 him to express himself. So he devoted himself 
 to this while his grandfather gave his orders, and 
 the whole household was thrown into agitation 
 by the news of their speedy departure for May- 
 bury. 
 
 The next morning Betty was late for breakfast. 
 It was a case of tangles and a difference of opinion 
 with Gertrude about a frock. Betty wished to 
 wear her "best every-day dress" to school, that 
 
 she might, upon her return, be fully prepared for 
 22
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 company without further effort. Gertrude felt 
 that the usual school costume was "good enough" 
 for one small boy who might come. 
 
 "Of course he'll come!" exclaimed Betty. 
 "Why shouldn't he, when he had no previous 
 engagement? Of course, his grandfather wouldn't 
 prevent his coming to our house, when his wife's 
 own nephew is married to my own father's own 
 sister. It makes him a sort of relation." 
 
 She was somewhat chagrined, therefore, to 
 find a note at her plate which proved Gertrude 
 to be right. It ran: 
 
 "DEAR BETTY, Grandfather and I are going to 
 Maybury to-morrow, so I cannot go to your house. 
 I am awfully sorry. I am glad I met you to-day, only 
 I guess we should not have gone if I had not seen you. 
 I like Brown ever so much. I wish I had a dog like 
 Brown, only grandfather does not like dogs, so I can't. 
 
 "Good-bye. I hope I will see you sometimes in 
 Maybury. 
 
 "Yours truly, 
 
 "CHRISTOPHER LOVEL." 
 
 "He can't come!" said Betty, looking up from 
 her letter. "Isn't that too mean? And he says 
 they wouldn't be going to Maybury to-day if he 
 hadn't met me, mamma. How could meeting 
 me make them go to Maybury?" 
 
 Betty, as she spoke, watched her mother, who 
 was looking across the table at her father. 
 
 23
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "That is very characteristic of the General, 
 Charlie, isn't it? The boy says in his note to 
 me: 'I did not know we were going so soon, but 
 grandfather has just this minute made up his 
 mind to go to-morrow, and everybody is sur- 
 prised and is hurrying to get ready.' Could it 
 possibly be because Surely he must have learn- 
 ed! He won't make the same mistake with this 
 grandchild that he did with his son and daughter, 
 I hope." 
 
 "It looks like it," said Mr. Hamilton. "Bes- 
 sie, I am really sorry for that boy. I believe 
 he would have stood more chance for real happi- 
 ness if he could have lived with the Toppans, 
 who wanted him so much. We must do what 
 we can this summer to have him with our chil- 
 dren. The old General always was a fierce dis- 
 ciplinarian, and what with his experience in 
 the army and his immense wealth he has always 
 had his own way. We shall have to use some 
 tact." 
 
 "Ludovic will help us," said Mrs. Hamilton. 
 "He really has some influence with his uncle, I 
 think." 
 
 The conversation then turned to something 
 else which had no connection with Christopher, 
 but Betty had heard enough to give her food 
 for thought during the remainder of the&meal. 
 What a perfectly dreadful person that old Gen- 
 
 24
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 eral must be, she said to herself. She had never 
 liked him. She remembered now how very dis- 
 agreeable she had considered him, before any one 
 knew that he was Christopher's grandfather, 
 and when Chris used to stand up for him and say 
 that he liked him. By this time he must have 
 found out that Betty was right, and she looked 
 forward with pleasure to an opportunity for 
 proving this to him when they should meet in 
 Maybury. She wished that she need not wait 
 so long. This was early April, and as the family 
 was not to go to Maybury until May, it would be 
 a whole month before she should have the op- 
 portunity to speak to Christopher an intermin- 
 able period. She wished also that she could see 
 General Keith's town house. She had heard of 
 its magnificence. It was said to be one of the 
 handsomest houses on Madison Avenue, so that 
 meant a very fine house indeed. She had seen 
 the outside of it, for it was just around the cor- 
 ner from her school. She wondered at what 
 hour they were going to start for Maybury; 
 very probably not until late in the day. She 
 determined to stop at the house on her way from 
 school. It would then be one o'clock, and she 
 might have just time enough for a glimpse of 
 the mansion and a word with the owner. Betty 
 knew no fear, and quite looked forward to telling 
 the General that her father and mother did not 
 
 25
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 approve of the course he was pursuing with 
 Christopher. She had such immense faith in 
 the good judgment of her parents that she really 
 felt it to be her duty to give General Keith the 
 benefit of their opinions. She decided to say 
 nothing at home of her intentions. It would 
 be time enough for that when she returned, and 
 well, it was just possible that her father 
 would object. Her father, in spite of his good 
 judgment, sometimes prevented her from car- 
 rying out plans that to Betty seemed so ex- 
 cellent. 
 
 Betty Hamilton was an impulsive girl, and one 
 who might even be called headstrong. When 
 an idea came to her like this one, an idea which 
 suggested all sorts of possibilities in the way 
 of adventure that would make a fine story to 
 relate to Charles and Pauline this last was dear 
 to Betty's heart; it was such unmitigated pleas- 
 ure to impress Charles and Pauline she seldom 
 stopped to deliberate. She made up her mind 
 and did it. The time for deliberation came 
 later, when the deed was done and everybody 
 disapproved. Her mother feared that Betty 
 would learn only through some great experience. 
 She remembered, however, that she herself had 
 been an eager, restless child, full of impulse and 
 mischievous pranks, and also of intense affection. 
 Betty hid her feelings under a seemingly careless 
 
 26
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 exterior, but she was very loving, and by love 
 could always be ruled. 
 
 Perhaps she would have told her mother of 
 her intention of stopping to say good-bye to 
 Chris if Mrs. Hamilton had not been called to 
 the telephone from the breakfast-table and then 
 to an interview with a lady who came very early 
 on a matter of great importance. The children 
 started for school without seeing her again. Of 
 course, Betty had no thought of telling any one 
 else about it. It would spoil the whole story 
 if Charles and Pauline knew about it beforehand. 
 She was, therefore, very silent as she and her 
 sister walked up Madison Avenue, and as Pauline 
 was engaged in the pursuit of a poetical fancy 
 she made no effort to break the welcome silence. 
 Pauline was to go home after school with a friend 
 to luncheon, so Betty felt that there would be no 
 danger of being prevented by her. The difficulty 
 would lie in disposing of Gertrude, who always 
 walked to school with them and came again at 
 half-past one to accompany them home. Betty 
 knew that it would be hard to persuade the de- 
 termined Gertrude to vary her custom to such 
 an extent as a call upon General Keith and Chris- 
 topher would require. She puzzled over it for 
 some time, and then very wisely waited to see 
 how things turned out. There was a barely 
 possible chance that Marie, one of the younger 
 
 27
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 and more docile maids would come for her. 
 Gertrude had been anxious to go to see a sister 
 who lived in Hoboken, and Mrs. Hamilton had 
 spoken of arranging to have her take that day 
 for the expedition. If it were Marie who came 
 to the school, Betty knew that she should find 
 it easy enough to carry out her plans.
 
 Ill 
 
 AND Marie it proved to be. When school was 
 X\. dismissed, and Betty and all the other girls 
 left the school-room and went to the cloak-room, 
 there was Marie, the young French maid, waiting 
 to help her put on her hat and coat. Marie had 
 not been living long with Mrs. Hamilton, and 
 this was the first time she had been sent to the 
 school for Pauline and Betty. Gertrude did not 
 approve of Marie, but this was supposed to be be- 
 cause she was elderly and German, while Marie 
 was young and French. Gertrude declared Marie 
 to be deceitful and flighty. 
 
 "Mark my words, Mrs. Hamilton," she had 
 said, with the freedom of an old servant, "she 
 is not to be trusted." And she had been un- 
 willing to go to Hoboken that morning if it were 
 to devolve upon Marie to take her place in walk- 
 ing home with Betty. But Mrs. Hamilton, at- 
 tributing her fancies to her well-known jealous 
 disposition, and intending that Marie should be 
 available for this very duty, only laughed at her 
 objections. Marie had come to her with a very 
 
 29
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 good recommendation. Her French was ex- 
 cellent and her appearance most pleasing. She 
 instructed Marie to speak only in French to the 
 children, and then sent Gertrude to Hoboken 
 while she herself went to do some shopping and 
 afterward to take luncheon with her sister-in- 
 law, Mrs. Lewis, who lived in the country not 
 far from New York, and who had telephoned 
 that morning begging her to come. 
 
 Betty was ready in a very short time. She 
 bade a hasty good-bye to her friends and hurried 
 away with a rapidity that would have surprised 
 Gertrude, who complained constantly of Betty's 
 slowness in putting on her hat and coat, and of 
 her desire to linger and chat with the girls after 
 school. To-day she was the first to leave, and 
 as she walked with Marie toward Madison Avenue 
 she told her that she wished to stop on the way 
 home to call upon a friend who was going that 
 day to the country, and whom, therefore, she 
 should not see again a long time. 
 
 "Parlez Franc, ais, parlez Franc, ais, mademoi- 
 selle, s'il vous plait!" exclaimed Marie, with her 
 irreproachable accent. "Madame votre mere 
 m'a dit qu'il faut parler Frangais toujours. 
 Toujours!" 
 
 "Je n'aime pas parler Frangais," grumbled 
 Betty; adding in English: "What's the use?" 
 
 She recovered her temper, however, and soon 
 so
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 discovered that the plan of stopping at General 
 Keith's house was especially pleasing to Marie, 
 for she herself would like to call upon a friend 
 in fact, it was a cousin who lived " bien prochaine" 
 in "L' A venue Troisieme." What could be more 
 convenient and desirable? She would leave "la 
 petite demoiselle chez Monsieur le General," 
 would seek "sa cousine," and return "toute de 
 suite, immediatement, en cinq ou dix minutes." 
 
 Betty detested being called "la petite demoi- 
 selle," as she by no means considered hereelf to 
 be so very little. Was she not eleven years old, 
 and not very far from her twelfth birthday? It 
 was provoking that she was not allowed to go 
 out alone. Pauline enjoyed this great privilege, 
 but it was not at all certain that Betty would 
 be permitted to do it even when she should be 
 as old as Pauline. Her mother would not prom- 
 ise. It all depended upon how careful a girl 
 Betty should have become at thirteen. 
 
 She decided not to correct Marie for speaking 
 of her as a "petite demoiselle" at present. She 
 was too anxious to have her carry out her inten- 
 tion of calling in Third Avenue. It would be 
 much more agreeable than to have her wait at 
 General Keith's. So she avoided a dispute, and 
 very pleasantly, and in excellent French, directed 
 her to stay at least ten or fifteen minutes, and to 
 make it fifteen if she possibly could, and then 
 
 3 31
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 she ran quickly up the steps of the big, stone 
 house with the paved court-yard and the high, 
 wrought-iron fence which she had long known 
 to be the home of Christopher's grandfather. 
 She had insisted that Marie should not linger for 
 an instant, so desirous was she to have it appear 
 to the servant who should open the door that 
 she was old enough to make calls by herself. 
 Marie, eager to get to Third Avenue, obeyed her 
 to the letter. When, therefore, the great front 
 door was thrown open, Thomas found upon the 
 steps only a little girl whose face seemed familiar 
 to him, and who stood there and asked for Mr. 
 Christopher Lovel with the dignity and self- 
 possession of a grown-up lady. 
 
 "Yes, miss, he's at home, but he's going to 
 start for the station in a very few minutes." 
 
 "Oh, then, I'm in time," said Betty, stepping 
 into the house with perfect assurance. "I was 
 so afraid he might have gone. Please tell him 
 it's Miss Betty Hamilton, and I've just stopped 
 to say good-bye to him I don't like to ask for 
 the General at the door," she added to herself. 
 "I will ask Chris if I can see him." 
 
 She walked into the reception-room, which 
 was at the right of the front door. Signs of a 
 hasty departure were plainly visible in the house. 
 Luggage stood in the hall; the furniture had not 
 yet been covered, but piles of crash lay ready for 
 
 32
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the purpose, some of the ornaments had been put 
 away, and the whole place seemed to be in the 
 state of disorder which means the departure of 
 the family. 
 
 Betty was not obliged to wait long, for Chris- 
 topher was in the dining-room and came to her 
 at once. 
 
 "Oh, Betty," he exclaimed, eagerly, "how splen- 
 did of you! I was so disappointed I couldn't 
 come to lunch; but we're going right off. I was 
 so sorry not to see you again to say good-bye, 
 and here you are!" 
 
 "I thought I'd stop on my way from school, 
 as I had to go right by the house. I didn't know 
 what time you were going, but I thought I'd 
 try it. Where's your grandfather 9 " 
 
 "He had to go down-town on business, and he 
 is to meet us at the station. Thomas is going 
 with me, and we have to start very soon, I think. 
 Grandfather said to be there at half-past two. 
 The other servants have gone. They went up 
 in the early morning train so as to get things 
 ready for us at Maybury. We are going 
 to stop overnight in Boston, for grandfather 
 wants to see some one who lives at Chestnut 
 Hill." 
 
 "Are you?" said Betty. "In Boston? That's 
 funny. You must mean you are going to spend 
 the night in Philadelphia. Chestnut Hill is near 
 
 33
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Philadelphia. Well, I'm sorry not to see your 
 grandfather. I wanted to particularly." 
 
 "What did you want to see him for?" asked 
 Christopher, with some curiosity. He was not 
 at all sure that his grandfather would be equally 
 desirous of seeing Betty. 
 
 "Oh, I just wanted to tell him something my 
 father said. I'll tell him when I get to Maybury. 
 Oh, Chris, what is that?" 
 
 They were both startled by the sound of a 
 heavy fall in the room above, the jar of which 
 caused the chandelier to rattle and sway and the 
 windows to shake. The perfect stillness which 
 immediately ensued was even more alarming than 
 the noise. 
 
 "Somebody must have dropped a trunk or a 
 table or something," suggested Betty. 
 
 "You wait here while I go and see," said Chris. 
 
 Presently she heard rapid footsteps as of per- 
 sons running to the room overhead. Quite a 
 crowd of people seemed to be gathering there. 
 She longed to join them and see for herself what 
 had happened, but she did not feel quite at lib- 
 erty to go up-stairs. While she hesitated Chris 
 came back. His face was white, and he looked 
 very much frightened. 
 
 "Thomas has fallen off the step-ladder," he 
 whispered. "He is lying perfectly still, and I'm 
 afraid he is dead. They're going for the doctor." 
 
 34
 
 While he spoke a woman ran down-stairs and 
 out at the door. She wore no hat or coat, 
 and from the window they watched her run 
 across the street and disappear around the 
 corner. 
 
 "What shall I do?" asked Christopher, glad 
 to have Betty to turn to for counsel. "Grand- 
 father will be waiting for us at the station, and 
 unless somebody goes and tells him he will be 
 dreadfully frightened. He will think something 
 has happened to me. He is always thinking 
 that." 
 
 "Then the best plan will be to go yourself and 
 tell him," said Betty, with her usual promptness. 
 "I will go with you." 
 
 "Oh, will you?" said Chris, greatly relieved. 
 "I shall be ever so much obliged if you will. 
 You see, I don't know my way around New York 
 at all. We go to the Grand Central Station, I 
 think." 
 
 "Oh no, you don't. Not if you are going to 
 Chestnut Hill. You made a mistake just now 
 when you said it was near Boston. You got it 
 mixed up with something else. To go to Chestnut 
 Hill you have to go to Philadelphia, and to get 
 to Philadelphia you have to go over to the station 
 at Jersey City. I know that for certain, for I 
 have been to Chestnut Hill. One of my aunts 
 lives there." 
 
 35
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 She spoke with great positiveness, glad of a 
 chance to show that she had travelled. Chris 
 was very much surprised. 
 
 "I am sure we go to Boston," he said. "We 
 have to go part way to Boston to get to May- 
 bury. I know to go to Maybury we have to 
 leave the Grand Central Station." 
 
 "Oh no, perhaps you don't. There is always 
 some roundabout way, anyhow, of getting to 
 places. Very likely there is some short cut your 
 grandfather knows about that will take you to 
 Maybury from Philadelphia. At any rate, I am 
 certain sure you go to Philadelphia to get to 
 Chestnut Hill. Why, I have been there, I tell 
 you! I think I ought to know." 
 
 Betty spoke with an air of such authority that 
 Christopher allowed himself to be convinced, 
 strange as it appeared to him that it could be as 
 she declared. His grandfather, it was true, had 
 given all the necessary directions to Thomas. 
 It was his habit to treat Christopher as though 
 he were a very small child. .His lameness, of 
 course, made him seem younger and more help- 
 less than other boys of his age. His experiences 
 before his accident had been of a nature that 
 would tend to harden him, but the long illness 
 in the hospital and his life since then had had an 
 opposite effect. He was closely shielded now, 
 with servants to watch and care for him, and no 
 
 36
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 opportunity whatever to assert the independence 
 of thought and action that is natural to every 
 healthy normal boy. 
 
 When Betty, therefore, declared that his grand- 
 father would be awaiting him at the Pennsyl- 
 vania Railroad Station in Jersey City he was 
 surprised, but supposed her to be right. His 
 chief thought now was to reach him and tell him 
 of the dreadful fate that had overtaken the 
 faithful Thomas. The people in the house who 
 were with Thomas now were scrubbing-women 
 and the man and his wife who were left in charge 
 of the house when General Keith was out of town. 
 As Chris had told Betty, the other servants had 
 started for Maybury by an early train. The 
 carriage which had been ordered to take the boy 
 to the station was now waiting at the door. 
 Christopher went up-stairs and told one of the 
 women that he was going to the station to get 
 General Keith and would soon be back. He 
 asked about Thomas, and learned that he was still 
 unconscious. This made him all the more anx- 
 ious to see his grandfather, and he turned and 
 hurried down to the front door, where Betty was 
 awaiting him. He did not mention her to the 
 woman, and as Thomas had opened the door 
 for her no one else knew that she was there. 
 The two children went down the steps and en- 
 tered the carriage. 
 
 37
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Pennsylvania depot, Jersey City," said Chris- 
 topher, very grandly. 
 
 "Any baggage?" asked the driver. 
 
 "No, and please drive as fast as you can. It 
 is very important." 
 
 The cabman touched his hat, and as he was a 
 good-natured cabby he smiled, feeling sorry for 
 the little chap's lameness. He slammed the 
 door, mounted the box, and presently they were 
 driving rapidly down Madison Avenue. Instead 
 of turning off when they reached the Grand 
 Central Station, and thus taking Christopher to 
 the place where his grandfather was already im- 
 patiently awaiting him, he continued on to 
 Twenty-third Street, and, turning to the right, 
 proceeded as fast as he could in the direction of 
 the Hudson River. 
 
 "It is the queerest thing that we should be 
 coming down here," said Chris, looking out of 
 the window as they drove up to the ferry-house. 
 " I didn't know we had to cross the ferry. Grand- 
 father never said a word about that. Do you 
 suppose he will be waiting on this side of the 
 river or the other?" 
 
 "Did he say you were to meet in the station?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Then, of course, he meant the other side. He 
 would have said this side if he had meant it. 
 You told me he had gone down-town, so of 
 
 38
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 course he will cross over by one of the lower 
 ferries. They take you to the Pennsylvania 
 Station, too." 
 
 " Betty, what a lot you know about the sta- 
 tions!" said Chris, admiringly. 
 
 "Well, you see, I have lived in New York my 
 whole life long, and I have often been to Phila- 
 delphia to stay with my aunt at Chestnut Hill. 
 It is a most fortunate thing you told me that your 
 grandfather wanted to see some one who lives 
 at Chestnut Hill. If you hadn't we should have 
 gone to the Grand Central Station and waited 
 there ages and ages, and your grandfather would 
 have been waiting down here. Wouldn't he have 
 been mad, though!" 
 
 "It is a good thing you came along, Betty, 
 to tell me. Grandfather will be ever and ever 
 so much obliged to you." 
 
 He paid the driver (Christopher was always 
 well supplied with money), and they walked 
 through the ferry-house and to the boat, which 
 had just come into the slip. The crowd of pas- 
 sengers had disembarked, and another but similar 
 crowd was hastening on board. It was all very 
 interesting, not to say thrilling, and the children 
 for a time quite forgot Thomas in the excitement 
 of finding sheltered seats on the upper deck. 
 The day was mild and clear. The river was full 
 of craft of all kinds. An ocean liner was aj> 
 
 39
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 preaching its berth, an armored cruiser lay an- 
 chored in mid-stream, a French battle-ship that 
 was visiting our shores was an object of interest 
 to every one. Ferry-boats, like huge living creat- 
 ures, crawled across the broad water. There was 
 a great, flat transportation-boat with a whole 
 train of cars on it, and there were sail-boats, 
 tug-boats, fire-boats, and steamers. And the sky 
 was blue and the river was blue, and everywhere 
 flags were flying against the blue, and down- 
 stream could be seen the Statue of Liberty, and 
 on the New York side great business buildings, 
 stretching upward their interminable height, and 
 on the Jersey side was the smoke of railroads and 
 factories, and everywhere the signs of life life 
 that must be lived to the uttermost degree of 
 activity, where all who lived must hurry and 
 work, work and hurry, or else be called a failure. 
 Chris and Betty did not waste time in any such 
 reflections as these. There was too much to be 
 watched and commented upon, even had anything 
 of the kind occurred to them. Betty in par- 
 ticular had entirely forgotten that she had any 
 duty in the world but that of accompanying 
 Christopher, or any other claims upon her atten- 
 tion. Oddly enough, it was the sight of the French 
 battle-ship which recalled to her the thought of 
 her own family. "Goody! Goody!" she cried, 
 her favorite form of exclamation. 
 
 40
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "What's the matter?" asked Chris. 
 
 "I never thought to leave word for Marie! 
 She was to come back for me after she went to 
 see her cousin in Third Avenue. She won't 
 know where I've gone." 
 
 "Oh, they will tell her," said the boy, reassur- 
 ingly. "I told Mrs. McGuire, the scrubbing- 
 woman, that we were going to the station. Of 
 course, she will tell Marie, and she'll know we will 
 get you home from there. You will be a little 
 late, but I don't believe your mother will be 
 worried, do you?" 
 
 "Mamma won't know anything about it until 
 I get back, for she has gone to lunch with Aunt 
 Edith, so, of course, I shall get home long before 
 she does." 
 
 "Oh, that is all right then. You needn't 
 worry about that. And it's fun to come way 
 down here, just we two, isn't it, Betty? I'm 
 never allowed to go anywhere alone." 
 
 "I'm not, either, and it's such a bore to have 
 a maid tagging round after you. Gertrude is 
 such a strict person, too." 
 
 "Thomas isn't. Thomas is very nice, and I 
 do wish he hadn't hurt himself. I wonder how 
 he is now." 
 
 "Probably he is ever so much better by this 
 time. I suppose Marie has been there and has 
 gone home. She isn't at all strict, but the worst 
 
 41
 
 of her is that I'm not allowed to speak English 
 when she is with me, and I do hate talking 
 French." 
 
 "Oh, I don't! I love it. I have been taking 
 lessons ever since I came to live with grand- 
 father. He speaks it just like a Frenchman, 
 and while we were abroad I was studying it and 
 talking it all the time, and very often he and I 
 speak it over here. Let's do it now." 
 
 "Oh no!" cried Betty; "I'm only too glad 
 not to have to, as long as Marie isn't here." 
 
 They were silent for a little while. The boat 
 ploughed its way through the water, lifting its 
 hoarse voice to respond to the greetings of sister- 
 boats, and gradually drawing nearer to the Jersey 
 side. Chris was the first to speak. 
 
 "It seems ever so long since we left the house, 
 Betty. I hope we sha'n't keep grandfather wait- 
 ing very long. He hates so to wait for people." 
 
 "Oh, we shall get there by half-past two. 
 See, we are getting to the slip now. Look out 
 for the bump when we touch the dock." 
 
 The bump safely a thing of the past, they 
 walked along the lengthy passageway which led 
 to the station. They followed the throng into 
 the waiting-room, and began eagerly to look for 
 General Keith. 
 
 "He will probably be near the doors that lead 
 to the Philadelphia trains," said Christopher. 
 
 42
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 There were several such doors, for there seemed 
 to be several trains that would soon start for 
 Philadelphia, through trains to Washington and 
 the South, express trains and accommodation 
 trains, with but a small difference in their hours 
 of departure. General Keith was nowhere to be 
 found. 
 
 "He hasn't come yet," said Betty; "you see, 
 we had plenty of time. It isn't half-past two 
 yet; only a quarter past. That man drove so 
 nice and fast." 
 
 "It's perfectly wonderful that we got here 
 first," said Christopher, very much pleased that 
 such should have been the case. "Grandfather 
 says soldiers should always be prompt. Of course, 
 I can never be a soldier. I only wish I could" 
 (he sighed as he spoke), "but I can act like one, 
 grandfather says." 
 
 "I'm rather glad you can't be," rejoined Betty. 
 " It would be awful to have you go to the war and 
 be killed." 
 
 "I don't believe there'll ever be another war," 
 said the boy, somewhat regretfully, but pleased, 
 on the whole, that Betty preferred that he should 
 not be killed. 
 
 "You can't tell, because papa says we are a 
 world power now, and no one knows what will 
 happen. But I should think you would rather be 
 in the navy, and that was such a splendid cruiser 
 
 43
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 we saw this morning. Just think how much 
 more fun it must be to go to sea and smash up 
 other ships than just stay on land to fight!" 
 
 Christopher, the grandson of an old soldier, 
 was not prepared to agree to this, and in a friendly 
 argument as to the superior merits of the two 
 branches of the service the time passed rapidly 
 away, and they were surprised presently to find 
 that it was twenty minutes of three and still the 
 General had not come. 
 
 "I am afraid there has been some mistake," 
 said Christopher, "or perhaps something has 
 happened to grandfather, too. He may have 
 had an accident. Or perhaps, after all, he is 
 waiting on the other side of the river." 
 
 "Oh, I don't believe so," said Betty. In her 
 efforts to make her words very reassuring she 
 raised her voice and spoke with even more than 
 her customary clearness. She had frequently 
 been told that she spoke too loud, but she forgot 
 these admonitions, and what she said was per- 
 fectly audible to the persons sitting near. "You 
 may depend upon it, Chris, General Keith will 
 be here soon. If he doesn't come he will send 
 you word and tell you where to go to meet him. 
 I suppose business has kept him; it often does 
 papa. And I'll stay with you until he comes, as 
 sure as my name is Betty Hamilton." 
 
 "It is awfully good of you," said the boy. 
 
 44
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "But I can't help feeling we have made a mistake. 
 I think we ought to have gone to the other sta- 
 tion or stayed on the New York side." 
 
 "Christopher Lovel!" exclaimed Betty, in- 
 dignantly, "you are a perfect goose to think 
 that. Of course it is this station, and you see 
 if I'm not right! General Keith will either come 
 himself very soon, or send some man or somebody 
 to get you." 
 
 In a short time her words were apparently 
 verified. General Keith did not arrive, but a 
 man, well dressed and with exceedingly good 
 manners, walked up to the bench where they 
 were sitting. 
 
 "Are you Christopher Lovel?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes!" cried Christopher, eagerly. "Did my 
 grandfather send you to find me?" 
 
 "He did. Your grandfather, General Keith. 
 He has been detained by business, and will not 
 start to-day. He wants you to meet him. I 
 will take you to him." 
 
 "Down-town?" asked the boy. "Is he still 
 down-town?" 
 
 "He is still down-town." 
 
 "Oh, that is all right. Thomas isn't here, you 
 see." 
 
 "I see he isn't," said the man. 
 
 "This is my friend Betty Hamilton. She 
 came down with me." 
 
 45
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 The man took off his hat to Betty with the 
 greatest politeness. She was immensely pleased. 
 
 "I will keep with you, Chris," she said. "I 
 am afraid I couldn't find my way home alone." 
 
 "By all means keep with us, Miss Betty," said 
 the man. "The General would much prefer 
 that you should do so. Come this way, if you 
 please. We go out by this door." 
 
 "Don't we go to the ferry?" asked Betty, in 
 surprise. 
 
 "Not that ferry. We go to another." 
 
 They left the waiting-room, not unnoticed by 
 the persons who had been sitting near them. 
 The lame boy with the golden hair and the blue 
 eyes was one whom people frequently turned to 
 look at a second time. Betty, too, was unusual 
 looking. She carried herself well, and her bright, 
 alert look, her short, red curls, her general air of 
 distinction, made her noticeable. A woman who 
 had missed her train saw them walk away. 
 
 "I am glad some one has come for those chil- 
 dren at last," she said to herself. "I thought 
 they couldn't be brother and sister. They don't 
 look a bit alike. I thought it was funny that 
 children of that class should be waiting here 
 alone so long. I suppose he is the grandson of 
 the famous General Keith, such a brave soldier 
 and yet so rich. Well, that boy will have a lot 
 of money, and p'r'aps that will make up some- 
 
 46
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 what for his being lame; but it's too bad he has 
 to limp. He's got a lovely face, though. It's 
 more than the man has who came for them; 
 there was something queer about him. I won- 
 der, now, if he really was sent after the boy, as he 
 said."
 
 MARIE found "sa cousine" who lived on 
 Third Avenue so entertaining and so glad 
 to see her that she was persuaded to lengthen 
 her call until it far exceeded the ten or fifteen 
 minutes which she had promised herself; in 
 fact, it was a quarter of two by a slow clock 
 before she could tear herself from the family 
 circle, and it was with reluctant footsteps even 
 then that she pursued her way back to Madison 
 Avenue. She was accompanied by Jean, who 
 was employed at one of the hotels, and whose 
 mid-day hour of freedom had coincided very 
 nicely and conveniently with Marie's call. In 
 such society the walk was all too short, and it 
 was with a heavy sigh that Marie finally bade 
 him farewell at the corner, and with a mind full 
 of many more interesting affairs than those of 
 "Mademoiselle Betti" she mounted the steps of 
 General Keith's house. 
 
 It was a long time before the door was opened 
 in response to her repeated ringing of the bell. At 
 last one of the scrubbing-women came to the door. 
 
 48
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Mademoiselle Betti Ameeltone," said Marie, 
 in her broken English, "eez ze here? Zay to her, 
 eef you please, zat Marie eez come." 
 
 "Sure an' I don't know what yer afther," re- 
 plied Mrs. McGuire. "There ain't no such person 
 livin' here. Yer at the wrong house." 
 
 She was about to close the door in summary 
 fashion when Marie interposed. 
 
 "Zee eez come to make her adieux to to 
 what eez his name? I haf forgotten how he 
 calls himself, but it eez zee leetle lame boy." 
 
 "Master Christopher yer afther talkin' about, 
 I'll warrant, though how any Christian body's to 
 understand yer dago lingo is more than I know. 
 Well, he's out, an' I ain't seen no young lady, 
 an' there ain't none been here. An' I'll thank 
 yer not to keep me standin' here when Thomas 
 is dead already for aught I know, an' the Gin- 
 eral '11 be home soon, an' there'll be row enough. 
 The saints presarve us if there ain't some one 
 a-callin' me now! No, she ain't here. Try next 
 door." And General Keith's front door was 
 closed with a bang. 
 
 But Marie did not try next door. She knew 
 that it was this house which her charge had en- 
 tered, for it was unlike all the other houses in 
 the block and she could not mistake it. As the 
 boy was out she concluded that Betty had gone 
 
 home without waiting for her, so she walked 
 49
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 down Madison Avenue rather quickly, knowing 
 that it was quite against the rules for the little 
 girl to be out alone, and feeling very glad that 
 Mrs. Hamilton and the tyrannical Gertrude were 
 both absent. When she reached the house, how- 
 ever, and upon inquiry found that Betty had 
 not come in, her complacency received a severe 
 shock. It was in no way lessened by the attitude 
 toward her of the other servants. Marie was not 
 popular, and this was an opportunity not to be 
 lost. They gathered about her the cook, the 
 laundress, the chambermaid, and even William, 
 whom she had supposed to be an admirer and 
 upbraided her for the absence of Miss Betty. 
 They painted in glowing and frightful colors the 
 wrath of Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton when Marie's 
 delinquency should be discovered. They were 
 all Irish except the butler, and he was English. 
 Not one of them could tolerate the French maid. 
 She felt herself an alien in a strange land. The 
 charms of the family circle in Third Avenue, with 
 the daily calls of Jean, took possession of her 
 mind. Her wages had been paid that morning. 
 There was nothing, therefore, to prevent her de- 
 parture. She went up to her room, and presently, 
 when no one was looking, when all the servants 
 were still holding an indignant conclave in the 
 basement, she stole down the front stairs and out 
 of the front door, carrying her possessions in the 
 
 50
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 two neat suit-cases which had brought them. 
 She turned in the direction that led her away 
 from the view of the basement windows, and soon 
 Marie was lost in the crowd and was well on her 
 way to the haven of Third Avenue, congratu- 
 lating herself as she went that no one in the 
 Hamilton household knew that she had friends 
 there. They would never find her. 
 
 It happened that not one of the family was at 
 home at luncheon that day. 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton came in at about half-past 
 three, and was told at once of the absence of 
 Betty. She sent for Marie, and William de- 
 spatched the chambermaid to call her to the 
 presence of her mistress. Nora returned from 
 her errand with flying feet. 
 
 "She ain't there, Mrs. Hamilton!" she ex- 
 claimed. "She ain't there, and none of her 
 things ain't there! She's gone, and she's took 
 everything she owned! There ain't so much as a 
 pin left." 
 
 Further investigation proved this to be true, 
 and Mrs. Hamilton felt puzzled. She was not 
 yet alarmed, for she supposed that Betty had 
 done just what the servants had thought she 
 had gone home with one of her school-mates and 
 evaded Marie altogether. Mrs. Hamilton was an- 
 noyed, however. She was surprised that Betty 
 should have done something which was clearly 
 
 51
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 against rules, for the children were expected al- 
 ways to ask permission to go out to luncheon, 
 and Betty had never transgressed this law be- 
 fore. As to the departure of Marie, perhaps it 
 was just as well, for she had made herself so 
 much disliked in the household that no doubt 
 dismissal would have been necessary eventually. 
 Mrs. Hamilton smiled to herself when she pictured 
 Gertrude's triumph, upon her return, to discover 
 all her predictions verified. 
 
 At about four o'clock Pauline came home. 
 She found her mother in her own room and 
 alone, and she sat down as close to her as she 
 could place her chair, delighted at the thought 
 of "a good talk with mamma without one of the 
 other children." 
 
 "Where did Betty go to lunch, Pauline?" 
 asked Mrs. Hamilton. 
 
 "Betty! Why, nowhere. She came home 
 with Marie." 
 
 "No, my dear, she didn't. Marie came home 
 without her." 
 
 "Then she must know where she is, for she 
 left school with her. Marie helped me on with 
 my things, and Betty was there with us. She 
 got my gloves by mistake. She didn't say any- 
 thing about going anywhere to lunch, and I 
 don't think she would, mamma, without asking 
 you. Betty never does. I saw her going along 
 
 52
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 toward Madison Avenue with Marie when I came 
 out. Alice and I turned toward Fifth Avenue, 
 you know, to go to her house." 
 
 "Are you sure you saw Betty with Marie, 
 Pauline?" asked her mother, now feeling a vague 
 alarm. 
 
 "Why, of course, I am, mamma! Isn't Marie 
 at home? Why don't you ask her where she 
 left Betty?" 
 
 "Marie has gone! She Oh, Pauline, how 
 stupid I have been! Of course, I see it all now! 
 Something has happened, and Marie was afraid 
 to tell it and has run away, and I have been 
 sitting here quietly and have lost all this time. 
 Oh, my dear, help me to think ! What shall we 
 do first?" 
 
 "I think the first thing we had better do is to 
 telephone to papa," said Pauline. "Don't worry, 
 mamma. It is probably all right, and Betty may 
 come in any time. Dear mamma, don't look so 
 frightened." 
 
 Pauline went to the telephone, and soon re- 
 turned with a message from her father. 
 
 "He is coming right home; but he says we 
 must telephone to all of Betty's friends, every 
 one we can think of, and ask if they know where 
 she went. But he says she will probably be home 
 soon, only we had better not take any chances. 
 
 And he says not to worry, because it is just like 
 53
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Betty to take us by surprise; but we had better 
 send William to Marie's friends and find out 
 where she is, and to look and see if she has stolen 
 anything." 
 
 Very soon these matters were all set in train, 
 but with small result. Betty's school-mates had 
 been communicated with, but as yet no one 
 had seen her. William returned from the only 
 friends that Marie was supposed to have, and 
 they knew nothing about her. And so far as 
 anything could be discovered, nothing had been 
 stolen from the Hamilton household, "though 
 that's a thing you don't find out for a long while," 
 said the cook, oracularly, "what with the hand- 
 kerchiefs and the collars and the bits of lace she 
 might pocket as easy as yer please." 
 
 But Mrs. Hamilton felt as though theft were a 
 small matter. Where was Betty, her youngest, 
 her baby, the child so carefully shielded and 
 guarded, whose very mischief and fun made her 
 so dear to all? There was nothing to be done 
 now but wait for Mr. Hamilton to come, and to 
 watch from the window for Betty, while Pauline 
 stood at the telephone and eagerly called up 
 house after house, only to receive the unvarying 
 reply: "No, she has not been here to-day. . . . 
 Yes, I am quite sure." 
 
 It was about half-past four o'clock when Mr. 
 Hamilton reached home. Mrs. Hamilton saw 
 
 54
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 him coming, and ran down-stairs to open the door 
 herself. 
 
 "She hasn't come home?" he asked, but he 
 was answered even before he spoke. One look 
 at his wife's face was enough. "My dear, you 
 needn't be so frightened. You know, Betty is 
 always up to mischief, and you know how she 
 forgets time. I am pretty sure she will come 
 walking in very soon, and we shall have had all 
 our fright for nothing." 
 
 "I am not sure that she will, Charlie, and 
 neither are you. Betty is mischievous, but she 
 is never directly disobedient, and the very fact 
 that Marie has disappeared shows that some- 
 thing is quite wrong. She has not taken any- 
 thing. She has just vanished. I am sure some- 
 thing has happened and she was afraid to tell it, 
 and What's that? Did a carriage stop? 
 Pauline, is it is it " 
 
 "It is an old gentleman, mamma. He is get- 
 ting out and coming up the steps." 
 
 "I can't see any one, Charlie. Please tell 
 William." 
 
 Mr. Hamilton went out into the hall, but the 
 man had already opened the door. 
 
 "I must see Mrs. Hamilton at once or any one 
 who is at home. It is most important " 
 
 Mr. Hamilton heard that much, and then went 
 forward. 
 
 55
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "General Keith!" he exclaimed, in surprise. 
 "What can I do for you?" 
 
 "You can help me to find my grandson. He is 
 here, I suppose," said the General, sharply. "I 
 cannot understand the matter at all. Christo- 
 pher wished to come, I could see that, but that 
 he should do so when I expressly forbade it, when 
 I made all my arrangements to leave town, and 
 actually went to the station and waited an hour " 
 
 "Christopher is not here, General Keith," in- 
 terposed Mrs. Hamilton, from the door of the 
 parlor. "He has not been here to-day." 
 
 "What!" thundered the old man. "Not here? 
 Then where is he?" 
 
 There was a moment's breathless silence. It 
 was Pauline who broke it. 
 
 "I shouldn't wonder," said she, "if they were 
 together and have gotten lost." 
 
 "If who were together?" demanded the Gen- 
 eral, turning upon her. He had not even seen 
 her until she spoke. 
 
 "Betty and Chris." 
 
 ''Precisely what I said myself. Will you 
 kindly tell me, without further unnecessary delay, 
 where that child is that girl? She has led 
 Christopher into danger before this. Now, where 
 is she? When I heard she had been at the house 
 I knew she was at the bottom of it all. Why, I 
 have been waiting " 
 
 56
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Was my daughter at your house to-day, 
 General Keith?" 
 
 "Of course she was. Haven't I said so more 
 than once?" 
 
 "Will you be good enough to tell me exactly 
 when she was there?" asked Mr. Hamilton. "We 
 are very much alarmed by her absence, and until 
 you told us this we have not had the slightest 
 clew to her whereabouts since she left school. 
 Mrs. Hamilton is exceedingly anxious, as you 
 must see. Perhaps if we were to talk the matter 
 over we could agree upon some plan for tracing 
 the children. How long ago did you discover 
 that the boy was missing?" 
 
 His serious face, his concerned voice, no less 
 than his quiet manner, made an impression upon 
 the irascible General. He controlled his ill- 
 temper, and, following Mrs. Hamilton into the 
 parlor, he took the chair which Mr. Hamilton 
 drew up for him. They all sat down. 
 
 "I made all my arrangements to go to May- 
 bury to-day," he said. "It was a rather sudden 
 determination, but for many reasons it seemed 
 best to go. As it has turned out, I might just 
 as well have stayed but no matter. We were 
 going. I was obliged to go down to Wall Street, 
 and I left directions for Thomas, my man, to 
 bring Christopher to the Grand Central Station 
 and to be there promptly at half-past two. We 
 
 57
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 were to take the three o'clock limited, but I 
 wished them to be there in good season. I 
 waited there until long after three o'clock. They 
 did not come. I went to my house, and found 
 that Thomas had fallen from a step-ladder. 
 What he was up on a ladder for when he was 
 about to start for Boston, / don't know. But 
 there he was; he had fallen from a step-ladder, 
 and knocked his head in some way, and there- 
 fore became unconscious fainted and they all 
 thought he was dead; none but ignorant char- 
 people about, all the other servants gone to May- 
 bury, and great delay in finding a doctor. Chris- 
 topher told one of the women he would go to 
 the station and meet me, and it seemed he started 
 off in a carriage by himself, she supposed. I 
 have seen the stable people, and the man who 
 drove him is off on another trip. They are to 
 send him to me as soon as he comes in. In the 
 mean time Thomas has come to. He isn't much 
 hurt just enough to have caused all this trouble 
 and he says that a little girl came to say good- 
 bye to Christopher just before he fell, and that 
 it was your daughter. That was enough for me. 
 I knew at once that Miss Betty Hamilton, with 
 her well-known propensity for getting herself 
 and other people into mischief, had prevailed 
 upon him to do something he ought not to 
 do, and had led him into some scrape, and
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 so I came to you at once. Now, where are 
 they?" 
 
 "We haven't the least idea," said Mr. Hamil- 
 ton, "but I think we are nearer to finding out 
 than we were before. The coachman " 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton interrupted him. "General 
 Keith," she said, "I cannot permit you to speak 
 so severely of Betty. She is never disobedient." 
 
 "Disobedient or not, she is very mischievous," 
 replied General Keith. "My dear madam, you 
 perhaps did not hear of the dance she led my 
 nephew by means of a bogus telegram last sum- 
 mer?" 
 
 "I think we are wasting time," said Mr. Hamil- 
 ton. "General, if you will give me the name of 
 the livery-stable, I will telephone there and find 
 out if the man has come in. It will save time 
 if they will telephone here instead of to your 
 house. Have I your permission to do this?" 
 
 "Certainly; certainly. I detest telephones, 
 but they have their uses, after all." 
 
 Mr. Hamilton went to the instrument in the 
 hall. Presently General Keith turned to Betty's 
 mother. 
 
 "You must pardon me," he said, with his 
 most courtly manner, "if I spoke hastily in re- 
 gard to your daughter. I am very much alarmed 
 about my grandson. He is lame, and he is quite 
 ignorant of New York. And he is all I have." 
 
 59
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Yes, oh yes! I understand," said Mrs. Ham- 
 ilton. "We both have cause to be anxious. 
 We must not quarrel.' She tried to smile as 
 she spoke. 
 
 They were silent again until Mr. Hamilton 
 came hurriedly into the room. "The coachman 
 has just come in," he said. "I have been speak- 
 ing to him myself. He drove a lame boy and a 
 little girl about the same age, with red, curly 
 hair, to the Twenty-third Street ferry. They 
 were going to the Pennsylvania Railroad Station. 
 He watched them go on board the boat before 
 he left the ferry-house. Of course, it was Betty 
 and Christopher." 
 
 General Keith started to his feet. "The 
 Pennsylvania Station!" he exclaimed. "And I 
 said so distinctly the Grand Central! What 
 did the boy mean?" 
 
 "Suppose we go right down there together, 
 General. Then we can find out. I will order a 
 motor-cab." 
 
 And in a very few minutes they were off, and 
 Mrs. Hamilton and Pauline were left to their 
 weary waiting. And presently Charles came 
 home and then Florence, and to each was told 
 the story. They all tried to comfort and en- 
 courage one another, but it was not easy. If 
 the children had gone to the wrong station they 
 must long since have discovered their mistake. 
 
 60
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Why, then, had they not come home? And so 
 the time wore away, and no one came, nor was 
 there any message. It was no wonder that the 
 waiting family grew more and more anxious. 
 
 But Mr. Hamilton and General Keith had dis- 
 covered something which was so alarming that 
 Betty's father dared not telephone to his wife 
 at all, lest he should betray it in some way. A 
 woman sitting in the station and watching the 
 two gentlemen as they made inquiries of the offi- 
 cials had stopped them as they passed her. 
 
 "Are you looking for a lame boy and a girl 
 with red curls?" she asked, hesitatingly. "There, 
 I thought so. I suspected there was something 
 wrong when I saw them go off with him. A man 
 came up to them and said some general General 
 Keith, I think he said, though I won't be certain 
 had sent him after them. A tall, dark-haired 
 man in good clothes, but something queer about 
 him. They all went out that door. ... Oh no, 
 I thank you! I'm glad if I've been of any use. 
 He had dark hair and no mustache and awful 
 big ears. That's all I could say of his looks. 
 (There," she added, to herself, "I was mad enough 
 about missing my train and having to wait three 
 hours for another, but I guess there was some 
 good purpose in it, after all, if I've set those gen- 
 tlemen on the right track to find their children. 
 My, but it's awful what things are done nowa- 
 
 61
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 days! I dare say it '11 all be in the papers to- 
 morrow. That General Keith is so rich, and I 
 suppose the scoundrel wants the reward. And 
 I'm glad that nice gentleman took my name and 
 address. It will be quite a journey if I have to 
 come to the city to identify the wretch, but I'd 
 go farther than that to bring such a scamp as 
 he must be to justice. Stealing children like 
 that! I thought at the time he was queer look- 
 ing.")
 
 WHEN Betty and Christopher, accompanied 
 by their new friend, left the station, they 
 started off on a brisk walk through the streets 
 of Jersey City. 
 
 "You won't mind a little walk, I suppose, 
 after sitting still so long," said their guide, in 
 his very polite way. 
 
 Betty considered him quite the most polite per- 
 son she had ever known. The way in which he 
 stepped aside and let her go through a door first, 
 and the courtly manner with which he touched 
 her elbow to guide her over a muddy crossing, 
 made a profound impression on her. She had 
 never noticed before that gentlemen took ladies 
 by the elbow to assist them across the street; 
 but then she had never met a Jersey City gentle- 
 man, and no doubt it was the custom of the place, 
 she said to herself. There were other things, too, 
 that were unusual about their new friend, and 
 yet she could not have said exactly what they 
 were. His clothes were not shabby; on the 
 
 contrary, they looked very new; but they were 
 5 63
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 rather aggressive in style, and did not seem to 
 fit well. His polite manners did not fit well, 
 either; in fact, they became so exaggerated that 
 Betty began to wonder if he really were a gentle- 
 man. Perhaps he was a butler or a groom or a 
 coachman whom General Keith had sent. She 
 glanced at his face. He had a rather disagree- 
 able expression, in spite of his gallant ways. She 
 had never seen any one with such closely cropped 
 hair and such enormous ears. She wondered 
 what Chris thought of him. 
 
 The boy was chatting pleasantly. As usual, 
 he was cordial and friendly. It required some 
 very pointed incivility or unkindness to make 
 Christopher suspect ill-will. Then, too, his past 
 life had thrown him with all sorts and conditions 
 of men. He would not, therefore, be so apt as 
 Betty to decide that a man was or was not a 
 gentleman. 
 
 They walked until Christopher felt rather tired. 
 
 "I am sorry," he said, looking up in his bright 
 way at the man, "but I shall have to ask you to 
 go a little more slowly. You see, I am lame, and 
 I'm not quite used yet to my artificial leg. I 
 suppose you didn't know I had one, did you? 
 Most people don't until I tell them." 
 
 "Well, now, I never guessed it at all. You 
 manage it fine," replied their guide, slackening 
 his speed slightly, but still walking briskly. 
 
 64
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Why don't we take a carriage?" asked Betty. 
 "Where are we going, anyway? or can't we go 
 in a car to where General Keith is waiting?" 
 
 "No, my little lady, we can't," said the man, 
 rather less civilly than he had yet spoken. "There 
 is no car that goes where we're going at least, 
 we're not going to take it." 
 
 Betty looked at him again. This was cer- 
 tainly no gentleman. 
 
 She had been very stupid to think for an in- 
 stant that he was one. She had been so pleased 
 that General Keith had at last sent for them, and 
 so impressed by the manners of his emissary, that 
 she had not been as discriminating as usual. 
 
 "Which ferry do we take?" she asked next. 
 
 "You wait and see." 
 
 This was certainly peculiar, not to say pro- 
 voking. 
 
 "I am accustomed," said Betty, very loftily, 
 "to have people answer my questions." 
 
 "Well, my little lady, it's time you got used 
 to something different." 
 
 They walked on in silence for some time. 
 Christopher grew rather pale. 
 
 "I am very sorry," said he, at last, "but I 
 think we will have to take a car or a carriage. 
 My leg is hurting, and my grandfather never 
 allows me to walk when it is hurting." 
 
 The man muttered something beneath his 
 
 65
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 breath which to Betty's keen ears sounded amaz- 
 ingly like a "swear word." She was becoming 
 very much puzzled. If General Keith had sent 
 this person to bring his grandson to him, he 
 surely would have given directions that he 
 should ride, at least, in a car. Had the General 
 really sent him? For the first time a well-de- 
 fined suspicion that all was not as it should be 
 entered Betty's mind, and having once gained 
 entrance it stayed there. She reviewed the 
 situation and the details of this man's first ap- 
 pearance in the station. He had known Chris- 
 topher's name, and he had certainly spoken of 
 General Keith by name and said that he had 
 sent him. He had mentioned, too, that the 
 General had been detained by business. Oh, it 
 must be all right! There could be no other pos- 
 sible way for him to have arrived at the knowl- 
 edge of the affairs of General Keith and Chris- 
 topher. 
 
 While she was thinking these things the man 
 had hailed a passing car. Betty had just time 
 enough to see the word "Hoboken" upon it 
 when they all entered it and the car sped on its 
 way. Now this seemed more remarkable than 
 anything yet. It could not be possible that 
 General Keith should be awaiting Christopher in 
 Hoboken. People only went to Hoboken to sail 
 for Europe, she was sure. She wished that she 
 
 66
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 might have a word with Chris, but the man was 
 sitting between them; in fact, the man had 
 always placed himself between them since they 
 started on their walk. She had not had the 
 smallest opportunity to speak to Chris. It sud- 
 denly occurred to her that it might be a good 
 plan to speak in French if the chance came. 
 She was quite sure that they would not be under- 
 stood. The person who had them in charge 
 did not look like one who was conversant with 
 other languages than his own. Betty did not 
 feel at all frightened. Her mind was so alert 
 and her spirit so intrepid that she never thought 
 of being alarmed. Her one idea was to find out 
 what the man was planning to do, and to escape 
 from his clutches as soon as possible. 
 
 She looked out of the window, and, from the 
 numerous German names and signs that she saw, 
 concluded that they were in Hoboken. She had 
 been over there many times with Gertrude to 
 visit her nurse's relatives, who were respectable, 
 well-to-do people, and who lived very comfortably 
 in German fashion, and Betty had always en- 
 joyed going to see them; but she knew perfectly 
 well that it was not at all probable that General 
 Keith should have business in Hoboken and send 
 for Christopher to meet him there. 
 
 At last the man stopped the car, and they all got 
 
 out. Betty stepped quickly to Christopher's side. 
 67
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "It is all very strange," she said, in French. 
 She was glad enough now that they both under- 
 stood it. Even the despised language ot Marie 
 had its uses in an emergency. "I don't think 
 your grandfather sent him. General Keith 
 wouldn't have any business to do in Hoboken, 
 unless he were going to sail for Europe. Perhaps 
 the man is stealing us. What had we better do?" 
 
 Her French was by no means perfect, but 
 Chris fortunately could understand it. The man 
 did not, and consequently objected to its being 
 used. 
 
 "See here," said he, in a very rude way, "you'd 
 better shut up. We don't want any of that lingo. 
 Straight American 's good enough for us." 
 
 "I think I shall speak French if I want to," 
 said Betty "or German either," she added, not 
 sorry to display her linguistic powers. "Quick!" 
 she said, again in French. "We mustn't let 
 him take us into a house. If we once got shut 
 up in a house we might never get out." 
 
 This suggestion was horrible. 
 
 "If we could only see somebody we knew!" 
 suggested Christopher. 
 
 "Somebody we knew! We shall never meet 
 any one we know in Hoboken unless it were 
 Gertrude or some of her family. Oh, how I do 
 wish we might meet Gertrude! Have you any 
 money?" 
 
 68
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Shut up, I tell you!" exclaimed the man, 
 angrily. "There's no need at all for you to be 
 holding consultations." 
 
 "I don't know why you speak to us in that 
 way," said Christopher, gravely. "If my grand- 
 father sent you for me, I know he would not 
 mind my talking to Betty in French if I want 
 to. Where are we to meet my grandfather?" 
 
 "Where he's waiting, and no place else. We'll 
 get to the house soon." 
 
 They were both startled by this announcement. 
 It was to a house, then, that he intended taking 
 them! Betty determined to make a fight. If 
 he took her into a house he would have to carry 
 her screaming and kicking. She would arouse 
 the neighborhood. She would call the police. 
 The police! That was an idea. Strange that 
 it had not occurred to her before. She looked 
 eagerly up and down the streets. She actually 
 saw a policeman standing on a corner a block 
 away; but, to her disappointment, the man 
 turned the corner that they were then on. She 
 remembered that he had turned a great many 
 abrupt corners in the course of their walk. Oh, 
 what should they do? For the first time her 
 courage failed. She felt miserably, horribly 
 frightened. 
 
 But almost in the same moment that terror 
 came, hope revived. She was suddenly impressed 
 
 69
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 with the fact that she had been on this street 
 before. The houses looked familiar, and she had 
 often read the name and the signs on that beer- 
 shop across the way. Was it could it be yes, 
 it was the street where Gertrude's relatives lived ! 
 They must pass the very house. 
 
 "Pretend you are very tired," she said, quickly, 
 in French. "Stop, and say you can't walk an- 
 other step. I know what to do. But please, 
 please do as I say. Attract his attention some- 
 how. It will give me more time." 
 
 Christopher obeyed her implicitly. He could 
 not imagine why she made this request, but he 
 had perfect confidence in Betty. He stopped 
 abruptly. "I can't walk another step," he said. 
 " You will have to get a carriage or do something. 
 I have got to sit down on these steps." 
 
 He did so, and the man turned to him in wrath 
 and impatience. "Get right up and " But he 
 did not finish his sentence. To the utter amaze- 
 ment of both, Betty ran up the steps of a house 
 a few doors farther on and pulled the bell-handle 
 again and again, at the same time pounding on 
 the door and shouting at the top of her voice. 
 
 ' ' Frau Schmidt ! Frau Schmidt ! " she shrieked. 
 "It's Betty Hamilton! Quick! Open the door! 
 Frau Schmidt! Chris, shout, too! Make all the 
 noise you can! Police! Fire! Murder! Thieves! 
 Frau Schmidt! Police!" 
 
 70
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 In an instant the door of the beer-shop across 
 the way was opened and that of the little butcher- 
 shop next doer to it, and the doors of some of 
 the houses, and windows were thrown up all 
 along the street and heads were thrust out. 
 What was the matter? Frau Schmidt came 
 running to her door, followed by her daughters. 
 
 "Ach! Himmel !" she cried. "Es ist Fraulein 
 Betti! Gertrud! Gertrud! Hier ist das kleine 
 Fraulein. Was haben sie?" 
 
 And, wonderful to relate, Gertrude herself 
 emerged from the front door to find her precious 
 charge, whom she had supposed was at home in 
 Madison Avenue, shouting aloud in the streets 
 of Hoboken, while a few doors away a boy who 
 must be Christopher Lovel sat upon the door-step 
 and also shouted for the police and the fire-engines; 
 and so much engaged were they all in looking 
 and wondering at the children, and in asking 
 them, with many exclamations of "Ach!" and 
 "Himmel!" why they were behaving in this ex- 
 traordinary manner, that they paid no attention 
 to the man who was walking rapidly up the street, 
 and who, turning the nearest corner, was soon 
 lost to sight. 
 
 It would be impossible to describe the amaze- 
 ment of Gertrude or the relief of Betty and Chris- 
 topher at this meeting. It was, indeed, most re- 
 markable that they should have been led to the 
 71
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 very door of their friends. When Gertrude 
 heard the account of their experiences and of 
 their wonderful escape from the clutches of their 
 abductor, she knelt down among them all and 
 thanked the good Lord for preserving her darling 
 from harm. Then, rising, Gertrude took Betty in 
 her arms and kissed her, the tears coming into her 
 eyes, and her strong German face working with 
 emotion. Betty had never seen her so moved 
 since one night, long ago, when Pauline was ill, 
 and it was feared she might not recover. At 
 last she overcame her emotion, and, after ques- 
 tioning them once more, she remembered that 
 they should lose no time in communicating with 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, who must by this time 
 be sadly alarmed by Betty's prolonged absence. 
 It was now long after five o'clock, and she could 
 well imagine how uneasy Mrs. Hamilton must 
 be. The full iniquity of Marie, of course, she 
 did not guess, although she had given several 
 exclamations in German, which Betty knew were 
 scathing in significance, when she was told that 
 Marie had been willing to leave Betty at General 
 Keith's while she went to see a cousin. 
 
 Gertrude hurried across the street to a public 
 telephone, and soon the glad news was communi- 
 cated to Mrs. Hamilton, and then the good woman 
 and the children entered a carriage which had 
 
 been sent for, and amid the farewells of a throng 
 72
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 of people they started for home. Betty, her 
 alarms a thing of the past, thoroughly enjoyed 
 her unusual position. She felt herself to be a 
 very great personage indeed as she left the house 
 of Schmidt, with all the Schmidts on the steps 
 to see them off, and Herr Schmidt, who had come 
 home and heard the news, to close the carriage 
 door, and all the neighbors standing on the side- 
 walk, and even in the middle of the street, to bid 
 them farewell. At first the excitement of all 
 which they had been through, and the novelty 
 of the drive from Hoboken, had an exhilarating 
 effect upon both Betty and Christopher; but very 
 soon that wore off, and the two tired children 
 fell asleep, each with a head on Gertrude's com- 
 fortable shoulders as she sat between them on 
 the broad seat of the hack. They had walked a 
 very great distance, and it was not surprising that 
 they were exhausted. 
 
 It was a long drive from Hoboken to the Ham- 
 iltons' house on Madison Avenue first to the ferry 
 and then across, and then with many delays and 
 slow progress up-town; but at last it was over, 
 and the carriage stopped in front of the well- 
 known door. And then the door was thrown 
 open, and down the steps came Mrs. Hamilton 
 herself, and Charles and William to help them 
 out, with Florence and Pauline close behind, 
 
 and all the maids looking on. It was even more 
 73
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 thrilling than the departure from the home of 
 the Schmidts, and very much more delightful; 
 for it was, indeed, good to get home. 
 
 "Oh, mamma, mamma!" cried Betty, with 
 her arms tight around her mother's neck, after 
 they were all safe in the house, "I'm afraid 
 you've been terribly frightened about me, and I 
 know it was all my fault. I oughtn't to have 
 stopped to see Chris. But I was only going to 
 stay a minute, and then Thomas fell down dead, 
 and I had to go with Chris to find his grandfather. 
 I'm so sorry, but I never thought about any- 
 thing but helping Chris. I forgot it would take 
 so long to go to the station." 
 
 " My darling, we will talk it all over to-morrow," 
 said Mrs. Hamilton, in her tender way. Chris- 
 topher, watching her face, thought it even more 
 beautiful than he had before. 
 
 She looked up quickly, and met his steady gaze. 
 His eyes were very solemn. He was not envious 
 of Betty, but he felt sorry that he had no mother 
 to take him in her arms like that when he came 
 home. By some instinct Mrs. Hamilton read his 
 thought as clearly as though he had spoken. 
 She held out her hand and smiled at him. Chris 
 went quickly to her side. 
 
 "Dear boy," she said, putting her arm about 
 him and drawing him close to her, "I am glad 
 
 Betty was with you, as you are both safely out 
 74
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 of it now. You are very tired, aren't you? 
 Would you like to have me ask your grandfather 
 to let you spend the night here? I should so like 
 to have you for my boy, just this once. Will 
 you stay?" 
 
 "Oh, I wish I could!" he answered, eagerly; 
 "but I am afraid my grandfather will want me 
 at home. I ought to be there now, to tell him 
 I'm safe. I was waiting for a chance to ask you 
 please to let me go." 
 
 "Your grandfather knows you are safe, and 
 he will soon be here himself. He and Mr. Ham- 
 ilton have been looking for you, and sometime 
 after Gertrude telephoned, Mr. Hamilton called 
 me up, to tell me they had not found you yet; 
 and then we could give them the wonderful 
 news that you were safe, and were coming that 
 you were on the way." 
 
 And while she spoke the front door was heard 
 to open, and Mr. Hamilton and the General 
 came in. 
 
 It was hard for Christopher to realize that this 
 was his dignified and austere grandfather. His 
 customary coldness and apparent severity were 
 laid aside. He was so rejoiced and thankful to 
 receive again his dearly loved grandson, the boy 
 who had gained a place in his affections even be- 
 fore he knew him to be his daughter's son, and 
 
 who ever since then had daily become more 
 75
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 and more precious to him, that he forgot to scold 
 or even to question him as to his mistake in 
 regard to the stations. This, no doubt, would 
 come to-morrow; to-night there was only joy 
 and thankfulness. Instead of censuring Betty for 
 having been the means (as he strongly suspected) 
 of Christopher's becoming involved in such an 
 adventure, he complimented her, in his most 
 courtly gentleman-of-the-old-school manner, for 
 her acuteness of perception and her presence of 
 mind, first in detecting that the man was an 
 impostor, and then in speaking French in order 
 to make known her suspicions to Christopher, 
 and upon her "clever device" for bringing the 
 Schmidts to their aid. 
 
 Betty was charmed, and decided that, after all, 
 General Keith was a very pleasant old gentle- 
 man. When he consented to the request that 
 Christopher should spend the night there, she was 
 still more inclined to like him. It was plainly 
 to be seen that he would prefer to take him home 
 with him, but realizing the boy's fatigue he knew 
 that it would be better for him to stay where 
 he was. Presently, when he rose to go, Betty 
 went to him. 
 
 "I hope you will excuse me for influencing 
 Chris to go to the wrong station," she said. "It 
 was not his fault at all." 
 
 "Oh yes, it was, Betty," said the boy. "I 
 
 70
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 ought to have known better, oughtn't I, grand- 
 father?" 
 
 "So it seems to me," said General Keith. 
 
 "No, it was really my fault, and I am truly 
 sorry," persisted Betty. "Will you please ex- 
 cuse me?" She held out her hand. 
 
 The General took it in his own, and they shook 
 hands very impressively. "I assure you," said 
 he, "that your mistake was most natural." 
 
 "I like you better than I ever thought I 
 should," continued Betty. "I am really not 
 surprised that Chris loves you so much. You 
 see, General Keith, you are so very icy in your 
 way of speaking that it kind of freezes me to 
 think of loving you, but Chris always has." 
 
 "Thank you," said the General, again shak- 
 ing hands with her. "You could not have 
 told me anything more gratifying for me to 
 hear." 
 
 "And another thing," added Betty: "I think 
 that, excepting my father, you are the gentle- 
 manliest gentleman I ever met. I should like 
 to have you for a friend." 
 
 "Betty!" exclaimed Mrs. Hamilton. And all 
 the rest of her family also exclaimed: "Betty!" 
 
 But the old General actually smiled. 
 
 "Thank you, Miss Betty," said he, again. 
 "The desire is mutual." 
 
 And, strangely enough, the compact entered 
 
 77
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 into that night was never broken, in spite of 
 many severe strains that were laid upon it. 
 
 Many efforts were made to find the man who 
 had tried to steal the children, and for a long 
 time the police of the three cities kept a sharp 
 watch for such a person as he was described to 
 be. It was supposed that he had been near them 
 in the station, and so had overheard their remarks 
 and the mention of General Keith's name. As 
 the General was known to be very wealthy, it had 
 no doubt occurred to the man that this might 
 be an easy way to procure money by holding 
 the children for a ransom. Be this as it may, 
 the man had escaped pursuit, and had probably 
 gone now to some distant place where he was in 
 no danger of detection.
 
 VI 
 
 A DAY or two later General Keith and his 
 grandson left New York for Boston, having 
 waited for Thomas's complete recovery, that he 
 might be with them. His injury was not severe 
 in itself, although it had made him unconscious 
 for a time, and very soon he was about again and 
 able to perform his usual duties. The nights 
 passed in Boston at one of the large hotels were 
 like many other nights at other large hotels, which 
 had been part of Christopher's experiences since 
 his life with his grandfather began. They were 
 all the same: the arrival, the obsequious hotel 
 clerks, the spacious suite of apartments, the 
 music while they dined, the well-dressed people, 
 the hurrying bell-boys all these, which had at 
 first seemed so interesting to the little lame boy, 
 whose former life had been full of the anxieties 
 of poverty and ill-health, had now become an 
 old and rather dull story. 
 
 No one would have guessed, however, that he 
 considered it dull, and his grandfather, finding 
 Christopher the most desirable companion whom 
 
 6 79
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 he had yet encountered in the course of his long 
 journey through life, took it completely for 
 granted that he himself was all whom Christopher 
 needed. He frowned upon the children with 
 whom the boy chanced to become acquainted in 
 their travels, and never encouraged further in- 
 timacy. To Christopher's friendly soul this was 
 something of a trial, but as yet his own nature 
 had not ventured to assert itself. Neither he 
 nor his grandfather knew its strength. The peo- 
 ple with whom he had lived had not all been kind. 
 His grandfather loved him, and for this he was 
 grateful. He never forgot that his changed cir- 
 cumstances were entirely due to this stern old 
 man, and he cheerfully gave up the friends of 
 his own age whom he chanced to find, and de- 
 voted himself to his grandfather. 
 
 They stayed two nights in Boston for General 
 Keith to attend to his business with his acquaint- 
 ance, who lived, at Chestnut Hill, and then, early 
 on the second morning, they drove to the station 
 to take the train for Maybury. The journey 
 from Boston was by a more direct route than 
 that from New York, and as General Keith seat- 
 ed himself in his chair in the parlor-car, he re- 
 marked, with satisfaction to Christopher, that 
 they should not be obliged to change. 
 
 "That is one reason," said he, "why I prefer 
 to come to Boston. It takes an extra day, but 
 
 80
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 it is easier. Are you comfortable, my boy? 
 Have you something to read? Nothing? Well, 
 the newsboy will be coming through soon, and 
 then you can buy yourself some of the magazines 
 and weeklies. Get anything you like. Here is 
 some money." 
 
 The General gave him two dollars, and then, 
 wheeling about in his chair, he opened his news- 
 paper, and was soon absorbed in its contents. 
 Christopher understood that he was not to be 
 disturbed. His grandfather did not like to be 
 spoken to while he was reading the financial 
 news. There was nothing to be seen of him 
 now but the top of his head and the huge paper, 
 so Chris amused himself by looking out of the 
 window or studying his fellow-passengers, while 
 he awaited the coming through of the boy who 
 sold books and papers. 
 
 At last the well-known cry was heard: "Boston 
 and New York papers! All the latest maga- 
 zines ! Harper 's, Century, Scribner's, Puck, Judge, 
 Life, Harper's Weekly, Ladies' Home Journal out 
 to-day! Papers?" It sounded to Christopher 
 just like every other newsboy he had listened to 
 in every other train, and yet there was something 
 in this boy's voice that he associated with other 
 things than newspapers and magazines. He 
 leaned over the arm of his chair and looked at 
 the news-agent as he came down the aisle of the 
 
 81
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 car. He wore the regulation blue uniform with 
 brass buttons, and a military cap with a visor. 
 He was tall and big, and as Chris watched him 
 make his slow progress toward him he felt quite 
 sure that he had seen this lad somewhere else, 
 but whether it was as a newsboy on some train 
 or in some quite different place he could not 
 determine. He seemed to be doing a brisk busi- 
 ness, for nearly every passenger made a purchase, 
 and Chris wondered if anything would be left 
 for him. 
 
 "Have you got a St. Nicholas?" he asked, when 
 the youth in uniform at last reached his chair. 
 
 "No, but I can get you one at the next stop. 
 Puck, Judge, Life all the comic papers." 
 
 Christopher looked up at him. "I'll take one 
 of each," said he, "and grandfather gave me two 
 dollars, so give me some magazines that have a 
 lot of pictures, please two dollars' worth. Why, 
 I know who you are! You're George Smith!" 
 
 "That's my name, sure, and I know who you 
 are, too. You're little Chris Lovel! I saw you 
 the minute you came on board, but I wasn't 
 going to let on until you spoke first. I say, 
 you're no end of a swell now, ain't you, spendin' 
 two plunks as easy as nothin'?" 
 
 "Oh no, I'm not a swell," replied Chris. 
 "That's my grandfather's two dollars. I'm aw- 
 fully glad to see you, George! How's Lucy?" 
 
 82
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "She's all right, last I heard of her. I'm a 
 railroad man now, and don't get no time to go to 
 Maybury. My route only goes half-way, and then 
 I take a train back. I've got to go on through 
 now, but I'll come back when I get your St. 
 Nicholas." 
 
 He passed on, and Christopher piled up his 
 purchases neatly, and thought, with satisfaction, 
 of this very unexpected meeting with an old 
 friend. He glanced at his grandfather; but see- 
 ing that he was still absorbed in his paper, and 
 had apparently heard nothing of the conversa- 
 tion, he did not speak to him. Chris felt so happy 
 about seeing a Maybury friend that he would 
 have been glad to share his pleasure with his 
 grandfather. There was no one else to speak 
 to about it, for Thomas was travelling in another 
 car, so there was nothing to do but wait until 
 George appeared again, which Chris hoped might 
 soon be the case. 
 
 George Smith was a boy who had lived at May- 
 bury in somewhat peculiar circumstances. He 
 was several years older than Christopher, and 
 was now apparently engaged in making his 
 fortune or, at least, in earning a living. Being a 
 "railroad man" sounded so very grand and grown- 
 up that Chris felt distinctly impressed. George 
 at one time was very poor. His mother had died 
 at Maybury the preceding summer, and his sister 
 
 83
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Lucy had gone to live with an aunt, Miss Lucetta 
 Smith, who was also the aunt of the Rachel Amy 
 Martin, whom Chris and Betty had spoken of. 
 Christopher thought it all over while he looked 
 out of the window. He wondered if the Smiths 
 and Martins still lived in the house that was 
 divided in half by a wire netting, and he smiled 
 when he remembered the fright he had had in 
 that very house when the wire screen was being 
 put up by the man who had been so unkind to 
 him before his accident. It seemed so strange 
 that he had ever been afraid of Peter Snell, now 
 that he was so safe in the guardianship of his 
 grandfather. He peeped around the back of 
 his grandfather's chair, and saw that he had 
 finished the financial page and was reading the 
 news of the day, so he ventured to stretch out 
 his hand and pat the old man's arm on the side 
 nearer the window, where nobody would see him. 
 
 "What do you want, boy?" asked General 
 Keith, not looking around. 
 
 "Nothing," said Chris. "I just thought I'd 
 feel you. I'm glad I live with you, grand." It 
 was a pet name he used occasionally. 
 
 "Humph!" said General Keith, "I'm glad 
 you do." 
 
 It was not much, but to both of them the words 
 as well as the action meant a great deal. They 
 understood each other perfectly. 
 
 84
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 After awhile George Smith came through again. 
 This time he carried a St. Nicholas. "Here you 
 are, Chris," said he. "I say, will you give some- 
 thing to my sister Lucy? Don't let on to any 
 one else. I can't write. I hate writin' worse 
 than anything. You just tell her, will you, that 
 you seen me, and I'm well, and gettin' along 
 O. K., and I want you to give her this." He 
 placed an envelope in Christopher's hand. "And 
 you just keep quiet to everybody. It's five 
 dollars," he whispered, leaning over him. "I've 
 been savin' it up for Lucy. You tell her to go 
 over to South Maybury and get anything she 
 likes at the Boston Store a dress, or a hat, or 
 candy, or a diamond ring. Lucy always said 
 she was going to have a diamond ring when she 
 grew up." 
 
 "Can you get one for five dollars?" asked 
 Chris, as he tucked the precious envelope into his 
 safest pocket. 
 
 "Oh, I guess you can at the Boston Store in 
 South Maybury," said George, laughing. "May- 
 be not the kind that would do for John D., but 
 good enough for us. You tell her I'll be comin' 
 to see her and Aunt Lucetta one of these days 
 before summer's over, and I'll " 
 
 "'Christopher, who is this?" 
 
 The boys both started as the cold, high-bred 
 tones fell on their ears. They had forgotten that 
 
 85
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 they were on a train, that Chris was the grand- 
 son of the severe old General, that George was 
 but a newsboy, and that business was business 
 and possible purchasers were being kept wait- 
 ing. "Oh, grandfather, I thought you were 
 reading! I'm glad you're not. This is George 
 Smith. I knew him very well when I lived at 
 Toppan Farm, didn't I, George?" 
 
 "Humph!" said the General, but not in the 
 same way in which he had said it a few minutes 
 before when Chris patted his arm. "How do you 
 do?" he said, with a barely perceptible nod. 
 
 Smith, who had rested his pile of books on 
 the arm of Christopher's chair while they talked, 
 picked them up, settled the strap, and prepared 
 to pass on. "Puck, Judge, Life! All the comic 
 papers! Ladies' Home Journal out to-day!" he 
 called out, in a high, penetrating voice, as he 
 walked down the aisle. 
 
 "It isn't worth while for you to greet every- 
 body from Maybury as an intimate friend, Chris- 
 topher," said General Keith. 
 
 "Well, no, I suppose not intimate," said Chris. 
 "And I never was intimate with George, but he 
 was a friend. All the Smith family were friends, 
 but George went away after his mother died, so 
 I didn't have a chance to get very intimate. The 
 first time I ever knew George at all he picked 
 me up when I had fallen down in the road. You 
 
 86
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 know it used to be very hard for me to get up, 
 grand, when I fell down I mean when I was 
 using crutches." 
 
 "Humph!" said his grandfather. 
 
 "There!" exclaimed Chris, regretfully, "I 
 never asked George if he noticed that I don't 
 use crutches any more." 
 
 The General moved impatiently in his chair 
 and opened another newspaper. "Read your 
 magazine," said he, "and don't talk about your 
 crutches. Why should you remember things that 
 made you unhappy?" 
 
 Christopher laughed. "Oh, the crutches didn't 
 make me unhappy, grand," he said. "I don't 
 believe I was ever so happy in my life as when I 
 began to use them at the Home, and Jess and 
 Agnes and everybody watching me to see how I 
 got along. Crutches are pretty good things when 
 you've only got one leg. But of course it's much 
 better not to have to use them, and I wish George 
 had noticed." 
 
 He settled back in his chair and turned over 
 the pages of his magazines, hoping that George 
 would return. But when he did, the news-agent 
 passed by without stopping; in fact, he did not 
 even glance at Christopher, which was disap- 
 pointing. Chris remembered that George had 
 always been very quick to take offence, and to 
 keep at a distance if he thought that he was not 
 
 87
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 welcome. He wished that he could make George 
 understand that his grandfather was not really a 
 cross person, that it was only a severe manner. 
 The next time the news-agent came through he 
 would certainly stop him and make known to 
 him that a cane now occupied the place of the 
 crutches, and that even a cane would not long 
 be necessary. But just at the moment when the 
 cry of "Puck, Judge, Life" again fell upon the 
 ears of the passengers, General Keith wheeled 
 his chair around toward the window and engaged 
 his grandson in conversation. It was impossible 
 for Christopher to turn away from him to hail 
 George, so the last opportunity passed by, for 
 the boy did not go through the car again, and at 
 the next stopping-place Chris saw him out on the 
 platform of the station, evidently awaiting a 
 train that would carry him back to Boston. He 
 looked up at Christopher's face in the window, 
 however, glanced at General Keith in the place 
 in front, and, seeing that the old gentleman was 
 absorbed in his papers again, he stepped close to 
 the car. Chris opened his window. 
 
 "Don't tell anybody but Lucy," said Smith. 
 "Promise!" 
 
 "I promise," said Chris. "I'll give it to her 
 as soon as I can. George, did you notice " 
 And then the train began to move. "Good-bye!" 
 shouted Chris. "It was George Smith," he said 
 
 88
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 to his grandfather, who looked around at this. 
 "He goes back to Boston now. Isn't it splendid 
 he has steady work, grandfather? I am sure 
 you would like George if you only knew him 
 better." 
 
 "It is a privilege I can get along without," 
 replied General Keith. 
 
 At last the long day in the cars drew to a 
 close, and they were now approaching Maybury. 
 "There's the lake!" exclaimed Chris. "The first 
 time " Then he remembered, and was silent. 
 He had been about to refer to his first visit to 
 Maybury, to his first sight of Maybury Lake; 
 but he bethought himself in time that his grand- 
 father strongly objected to being reminded of 
 the fact that it was not he who had found Chris- 
 topher and brought him up to Maybury from the 
 city and the Home where he had lived. It was 
 Mr. Toppan, of Toppan Farm or "Uncle Dan," 
 as Chris called him. 
 
 When the train stopped and they stepped 
 upon the platform, there was Mr. Toppan himself 
 standing among the group of men who were al- 
 ways at the station at this hour. 
 
 "Uncle Dan!" called out Christopher. "Oh, 
 I'm so glad to see you!" He went quickly to 
 him, and the tall farmer stooped over and took 
 him in his arms. 
 
 "My little son of sunshine!" said Daniel Top- 
 
 89
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 pan. "My little son of sunshine! Where are 
 the crutches, boy?" 
 
 "Gone!" laughed Chris. "Don't need crutches 
 any more. I've got two legs now nearly as good 
 as anybody's not quite. See me!" And he 
 marched up and down the platform. 
 
 All the other men came forward and shook 
 hands with him. He was a great favorite in 
 Maybury, and even their awe of the General did 
 not deter them from welcoming and congratulat- 
 ing the lame boy. General Keith had passed 
 them all with a curt nod except Mr. Toppan. 
 He had paused long enough to shake hands with 
 him and inquire for Mrs. Toppan. 
 
 "The boy will come to see you soon," he said 
 as he entered his carriage, which was drawn up 
 at the other side of the station. "Come, Chris- 
 topher, the horses don't like the train," he added. 
 And in a moment they were off, the spirited 
 horses prancing and dancing along the dusty 
 country road. 
 
 "The old General's as proud as ever," said the 
 postmaster, as he shouldered the mail-bag and 
 started for the store "proud as ever; but he 
 don't seem to have had much effect that way on 
 Chris." 
 
 "As nice a boy as ever was," replied Sam Wil- 
 son, the village humorist, who was the post- 
 master's usual companion. "Bright, too. Do 
 
 90
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 you mind the time Tim Tarleton tried to make 
 him tell what he was carryin' in his basket to 
 the Widder Martin ? Poor Tim ! Guess he wishes 
 by this time he didn't have the widder's baskets 
 to kerry!" 
 
 Mr. Toppan walked slowly homeward. He did 
 not usually frequent the station at this hour, 
 but the longing to see Chris had brought him 
 there. All the village had known that General 
 Keith was expected to arrive that night. 
 
 "There never was a boy like him," said Daniel 
 Toppan, aloud. There was no one near to hear 
 him, now that he had turned off from the main 
 street of the village. The dust left by the wagon 
 with General Keith's trunks still lingered in the 
 air, for the road led beyond the Toppan farm 
 to Keith Hall "never was nor never will be. 
 If it makes me ache like this to have him come 
 back and not belong to us, how will it make 
 Marthy feel?" 
 
 Marthy was Mrs. Toppan. They had wished 
 to adopt Christopher until it was discovered 
 that he was the General's grandson, after Daniel 
 had brought him to Maybury from the Home 
 and he had passed the summer at the farm. 
 
 Mrs. Toppan was on the piazza when the boy 
 drove past. He leaned forward and waved his 
 cap. Then he turned to his grandfather. "Please 
 let me get out. Please, please, grand! James, 
 
 91
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 stop. Grand, you'll let James stop while I 
 speak to her?" 
 
 The carriage came to a halt a short distance 
 beyond the house, and Christopher climbed down. 
 If his grandfather objected, he did not say so. 
 Mrs. Toppan came quickly across the grass. 
 
 "I'm coming to see you to-morrow," said 
 Chris, after he had kissed her again and again, 
 and while her arms were still around him, "but 
 when I saw you I just couldn't wait. And I 
 don't use crutches any more, you see. Isn't 
 that splendid? And I'm to have a pony of my 
 own. And I've seen Betty, and they're coming 
 to Maybury soon, and and oh, I'm glad to 
 get back! I'm glad to see you, auntie!" 
 
 "Come, Christopher!" called General Keith. 
 
 "There, go, child. Don't keep him waiting, 
 but come when you can," whispered Mrs. Toppan. 
 
 She stood looking up the road long after the 
 carriage had passed out of sight and the wagon 
 with the baggage had rumbled by. Then she 
 turned and went back to her rocking-chair on 
 the piazza. She was knitting quietly when her 
 husband came into sight. 
 
 "Did you see him?" asked Mr. Toppan, speak- 
 ing with unaccustomed eagerness. "Did he see 
 you? Did he bow?" 
 
 "Bow! Dan'el Toppan! He had the carriage 
 stop, and he got out and ran to meet me. There's 
 
 92
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 no change in him except for the better. All the 
 money in the world couldn't spoil him." 
 
 "That's true," said Daniel, sorting the mail 
 he had brought. "Nothing for you, Marthy. 
 Yes, that's very true. And the General? What 
 did he do?" 
 
 "Oh, he bowed very politely, same as he al- 
 ways does. He was in a hurry, though, to get 
 home, but that was natural enough. Chris says 
 he'll be here to-morrow. Seems as if I just 
 couldn't wait. I'll go tell Anna about his stop- 
 ping the carriage." And she went into the house 
 to share her joy with the hired girl.
 
 vn 
 
 'EITH HALL, General Keith's home at May- 
 bury, was justly celebrated for its beauty 
 in all that part of the State. The grounds, which 
 were many acres in extent, were kept at the 
 highest point of cultivation. Those near the 
 house consisted of lawns and gardens, while far- 
 ther away there were groves of stately trees, 
 woods, fields, and orchards. The General was 
 especially interested in the growing of roses, and 
 it had been a keen delight to him to recognize in 
 Christopher an inherited love of flowers. This, 
 with his musical taste and his desire to ride, 
 pleased the grandfather, who cared for just those 
 things. He unconsciously assumed that they 
 would feel alike about everything else. He de- 
 cided that the boy resembled him precisely, and 
 he systematically treated him as he would wish 
 to be dealt with himself, making no allowance 
 for the difference in years, nor for the traits which 
 Christopher had inherited from others who were 
 equally near him in blood. 
 The new pony which had been promised to 
 
 94
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Chris was already in the stable, and within half 
 an hour of his arrival he was in the saddle. This 
 was not the first time he had been on horseback, 
 for he had taken lessons while they were trav- 
 elling abroad, and now he rode up and down the 
 avenue and around the circle where the road 
 swept up to the house with the ease of an accus- 
 tomed horseman. The General stood on the 
 steps of the piazza and watched him, while a 
 group of stablemen gathered at a little distance. 
 
 "Sit a little straighter," called out General 
 Keith, "and keep a light hand on the bridle! 
 Your horse has a good mouth. Don't spoil it." 
 
 "Strikes me the old gentleman's pretty hard 
 to please," said Hooker, a new man on the place. 
 
 "Oh, that's only the General's way," replied 
 James, the coachman, in the same low tone. 
 "He's that proud of the boy he can scarcely hold 
 it, but he wouldn't let on he was for nothin'. 
 It takes a mighty good bit of work to get any 
 praise out of the General, but he's a good master, 
 all the same. He just worships that boy, and 
 no wonder." 
 
 "Makin' up for lost time, maybe," said Hooker, 
 who, like every one else, knew the story. 
 
 "He's the best horse I ever knew!" cried Chris- 
 topher, riding up to the steps. 
 
 "How many have you known?" 
 
 "Oh, ever so many! All the farm-horses and 
 i 95
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 old Jerry at Toppan Farm, and those we rode in 
 Europe, and the carriage-horses and your Angus. 
 I like Peter better than any of them. I don't 
 like his name, though. Do you think he'd feel 
 badly, grand, if I were to change his name? 
 You know that person was named Peter." 
 
 "I know," said the General, hastily. "By all 
 means, change it. Call him anything you like. 
 Better come in now." 
 
 " I'll think it over," said Chris, as he dismounted 
 and stood patting the little bay's smooth neck 
 and stroking his velvet nose. "I'll give you the 
 nicest name I can think of, dearest," he whispered, 
 "and then you won't be at all sorry you had to 
 change it only proud." 
 
 He watched Hooker lead the horse away, and 
 then he followed his grandfather into the house. 
 Presently they were seated at the dinner-table, 
 the General at the head and Christopher at the 
 foot, with a man behind each chair, just as they 
 did in New York. This had impressed Chris- 
 topher deeply when he first carne to live with 
 his grandfather, accustomed, as he was, to the 
 farm-house table, and before that to a life that 
 was yet more destitute of style and luxury; but 
 now he had become used to wealth and grandeur, 
 and he took it all as a matter of course. There 
 had been so many changes in the circumstances 
 
 of his short life that anything was possible. 
 96 

 
 ILL GIVE YOU THE NICEST NAME I CAN THINK OF, DEAREST, HE 
 WHISPERED"
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Thus far nothing had been permanent. He some- 
 times wondered if life as it was now would con- 
 tinue long. This crossed his mind as he ate his 
 fruit at the end of dinner. The servants had 
 left the room. 
 
 "If I have to go from here I think I'll be a 
 railroad man, too," he said, with a suddenness 
 that was a bit startling to his grandfather. 
 
 "What do you mean?" asked General Keith, 
 putting down his empty coffee-cup. "Go from 
 here?" 
 
 "I might have to, grandfather. I've changed 
 lots of times. And if I have to change again I 
 think I'll be a railroad man, and sell books and 
 papers on trains. I might go into partnership 
 with George Smith, and perhaps I'd get to be a 
 conductor after awhile." 
 
 "Do you realize that I am your grandfather 
 that you are my grandson?" 
 
 "Why, yes, grand, of course. But, you see, 
 I've always been that, and yet I have been very, 
 very poor, and I might get poor again, and then 
 I'd be older, so I would have to work, and that's 
 what I mean." 
 
 "Christopher" the old man's voice, usually 
 so hard and cold, was tender "Chris, my boy, 
 don't speak so. You will always live with me 
 now, and when I die, if you have been a good 
 boy and have always done as I said, my money 
 
 97
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 will be yours the greater part of it. Your work 
 will be to take care of it properly." 
 
 Christopher looked around the room, at the 
 silver on the sideboard, the pictures on the walls, 
 the glass and silver on the table at which they 
 sat, and through the open door of the dining- 
 room into the music-room beyond. It had never 
 occurred to him before that some day all this 
 might be his. He was very ignorant, in spite of 
 his experience with trouble. 
 
 "You are very kind, grand," said he, at last. 
 
 "Kind? Why, you're my own flesh and blood, 
 boy." 
 
 Christopher was silent for a moment. 
 
 "What are you thinking of?" demanded the 
 General. 
 
 " I was thinking Oh, grandfather, you would 
 rather I didn't say it!" 
 
 " I insist upon your telling me." 
 
 " I was thinking perhaps mother and father 
 wouldn't have have been so sick if if you 
 had only found me sooner, dear grandfather. It 
 was such a pity .you couldn't find us when we 
 needed you so much. But, grand, I don't see 
 why you feel so very badly about it. It isn't as 
 if you hadn't tried to find us. That would have 
 been awful." 
 
 The old General rose from his seat and walked 
 quickly to one of the windows. Chris caught a 
 
 98
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 glimpse of his face as he did so, and the boy left 
 his place also, and, following him, he thrust his 
 hand into that of his grandfather. 
 
 "Don't look so, grand!" he said, looking up at 
 him. "It isn't as if you hadn't tried." 
 
 General Keith was silent. He was a brave 
 man in battle, and men feared him in the ordinary 
 transactions of daily life, but he lacked the moral 
 courage to confess to this little boy, who loved 
 and trusted him, that he not "tried" in time. 
 
 The next morning dawned bright and warm. 
 It was early in April so early that up in this 
 New England hill country there were yet but few 
 signs of green. But spring was coming. There 
 was the softer air, the smell of earth, the in- 
 tangible something that whispers of change and 
 sends a thrill of expectation, half-glad, half-sad, 
 through all who truly live. Chris felt it, although 
 he could not have described the feeling, as he 
 rode slowly away from Keith Hall that April 
 morning on his way to fulfil his promise to George 
 Smith. That part of his errand he was obliged 
 to keep a secret from his grandfather, for he had 
 promised to speak of George's gift to no one but 
 his sister. He had obtained permission to go to 
 Toppan Farm, and he intended to continue on 
 from there to the village. He would tell his 
 grandfather afterward where he had been. Ben 
 accompanied him, the groom whose especial 
 
 90
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 business was to be this very duty of riding with 
 Chris and taking entire charge of his horse. He 
 had been brought from New York by James, the 
 coachman, and therefore knew nothing of the 
 country about Maybury. 
 
 There was a great deal to be seen as well as 
 said at the farm. It was necessary to go all over 
 the house and barn, speak to each person and each 
 horse, look at the cows, visit the hen-house, and 
 even call upon the pigs not to speak of the long 
 talk with Mrs. Toppan and Anna, and with Mr. 
 Toppan and the hired men closely accompanied 
 through it all by Dandy, the dog, who was over- 
 joyed at seeing Chris once more, and never left 
 him for an instant. An hour passed very quickly 
 to Christopher but not to Ben, who walked the 
 horses up and down the road, and longed for a 
 New York life once more. At last Chris remem- 
 bered that he had another call to make, and 
 mounting his pony, which had already been dis- 
 played to the admiring eyes of all his friends, he 
 rode off in the direction of the village, turning in 
 the saddle to wave his riding-stick in farewell as 
 he did so. 
 
 "Well, well, it's just too wonderful!" said Mrs. 
 Toppan, as she stood looking after him as he rode 
 away. "When I think of that poor, thin little 
 fellow on crutches who came here last summer, 
 
 without a friend or a penny to his name, and now 
 100
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 to see that fine young gentleman riding his own 
 horse and his own servant riding behind, and all 
 in this short time why, Dan'el it's it's won- 
 derful!" 
 
 Mr. Toppan did not speak for a moment. Then, 
 as he turned to go back to his work, he said, 
 quietly: "It certainly is, Marthy. And it makes 
 me kind of tremble when I think how near I was 
 to keeping him out of it." 
 
 "No, you wasn't, Dan'el. I know you better 
 than you know yourself, I guess. It was just a 
 temptation sent to try you. We think often- 
 times we're near yielding, but those who love 
 us know we're strong enough to stand it." 
 
 Daniel Toppan turned again and came back 
 to her. He put his arm through hers, and they 
 walked together to the kitchen door. "I guess," 
 said he, "it's that very faith in us that those 
 who love us have that keeps us from doing wrong 
 things mighty often. It ain't so much our 
 strength as it is theirs." 
 
 "Well, I'm no hand at reasoning a thing out," 
 replied Mrs. Toppan, "but I maintain there's 
 strength somewhere where there's love, for that's 
 the strongest thing in the world." 
 
 "You're right there, Marthy." And then he 
 went out to his plough, which he had left in a 
 distant field when he came in to see Christopher, 
 
 and Mrs. Toppan returned to her housework. 
 101
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Chris rode to the village, and after stopping in 
 front of the store to greet the postmaster and 
 other friends, he crossed the road, and, dismount- 
 ing, entered the side gate of the house where Lucy 
 Smith lived with her aunt Lucetta. There was 
 a curious history attached to this house. Miss 
 Lucetta Smith had lived in it all her life, as 
 had also her sister, Mrs. Martin. The preceding 
 summer Miss Smith had brought home the chil- 
 dren of a brother, and Mrs. Martin, objecting to 
 this, had caused to be built a partition of wire 
 netting, dividing the house exactly in half from 
 the cellar to the roof. On one side of this she 
 lived with her daughter Rachel Amy, and kept 
 a sharp and constant watch upon the doings of 
 her relatives in the other half of the house, al- 
 though she never spoke to them. 
 
 Chris found Lucy alone. Miss Lucetta had 
 gone to South Maybury to do some shopping, and 
 had left her niece to look after things at home. 
 As it was Saturday, she was not at school. It was, 
 therefore, an excellent opportunity to give Lucy 
 the envelope containing George's five-dollar bill, 
 which he did with many injunctions of secrecy. 
 
 "Can't I even tell Aunt Lucetta?" asked Lucy. 
 "I do wish I could, for she would be so glad about 
 it. She worries so about George, and wonders 
 how he is really getting along." 
 
 "He said not to say a word," replied Chris- 
 102
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 topher, very earnestly. "You're to get a hat 
 or a dress over at the Boston Store in South 
 Maybury, or a diamond ring anything you 
 want." 
 
 They had stepped out into the half hall while 
 he was speaking. Lucy was quite certain that 
 her aunt, Mrs. Martin, was standing on her side 
 of the netting in the hall above, so she made no 
 further remark beyond warmly expressing her 
 thanks to Chris. 
 
 "I am very much obliged," she said, very 
 earnestly. She was an old-fashioned little girl 
 of ten or eleven. "You are very good. I won't 
 get a diamond ring, though, because there are 
 other things I need a great deal more." 
 
 "I don't believe you could get a diamond ring 
 for five dollars," laughed Chris. "But there are 
 lots of things you can get, and you will tell me 
 what you choose, won't you, because I shall 
 want to know?" 
 
 "Yes," said Lucy, "I certainly will; and I'm 
 very, very much obliged/' 
 
 "I'm going in to see Rachel Amy now," said 
 Chris. 
 
 "Well, you must go out our side door, and go 
 around to the front and ring their bell." 
 
 "All right. Good-bye, Lucy." 
 
 And presently he was ringing the bell of the 
 door on the other side of which he had been stand- 
 
 103
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 ing but a few seconds earlier. It was opened 
 almost before his hand had left the bell by Rachel 
 Amy Martin. She was a tall girl with thick 
 brown hair, which she wore in a very smooth 
 braid, and her face was attractive without being 
 pretty. It was alight now with pleasure as she 
 greeted Christopher. 
 
 "I knew it was you/' she said. "Mother 
 heard you when you were in at Aunt Lucetta's. 
 So you went to see Lucy first ? However, I don't 
 care as much as mother does. Be careful what 
 you say in there, Chris. We hear every word 
 at least, mother does." She led him into the 
 parlor, which with the front door had fallen to the 
 share of Mrs. Martin in the division of the house. 
 She spoke hurriedly and in a low voice, glancing 
 as she did so at the door into the hall. 
 
 "You've got a horse, haven't you?" she con- 
 tinued. "What's his name?" 
 
 "He hasn't any name at least, I don't like 
 the one he has, and I'm going to change it. Do 
 you know a good one?" 
 
 "Oh, why don't you call him Julius Caesar, 
 or Ivanhoe, or Richard Coeur de Lion, or Oh, I 
 know: call him either Napoleon or the Duke 
 of Wellington, I don't care which," said Rachel 
 Amy, who was fond of history and also of Scott, 
 and who seemed to be of an impartial turn of 
 mind. 
 
 104
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Christopher was doubtful about all of these, 
 and there was a lurking desire in his mind to sub- 
 mit the decision to Betty Hamilton when she 
 came. He felt that Betty might be more original 
 than Rachel Amy. 
 
 "I don't care much for Napoleon," he said, 
 "and Duke of Wellington would be such a very 
 long name for such a little horse, and so would 
 most of the others. I think I'll wait a little before 
 I decide, but if you think of any more, Rachel 
 Amy, I wish you would tell me." 
 
 "Brownie is a nice name." 
 
 "That is the name of Betty Hamilton's dog, 
 only they call him Brown usually. Did you 
 know they were coming here to spend the whole 
 summer in their own house?" 
 
 "I guess everybody knows that." Rachel 
 Amy spoke without enthusiasm, and her manner 
 might almost be called "snubby." "Is her hair 
 as red as ever?" 
 
 This was an old point of difference. "I don't 
 call it so very red, but I don't think it has changed 
 any. Don't you want to come out and see my 
 pony? I'm afraid I've got to go home now." 
 
 "You haven't stayed so very long. You went 
 to see the people next door first, didn't you?" 
 Her mother always insisted that Miss Lucetta and 
 Lucy should be mentioned only as "the people 
 next door." 
 
 105
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Next door?" repeated Chris, somewhat puz- 
 zled. 
 
 "Yes. You know. In there." 
 
 "But it's the same house." 
 
 Before Rachel Amy could reply, Mrs. Martin 
 came into the room. "It is next door," she said, 
 with great asperity, "and I'll thank you not to 
 forget it." 
 
 "How do you do, Mrs. Martin?" said Chris. 
 He held out his hand and smiled at her. Mrs. 
 Martin's face relaxed in spite of herself. She 
 was a gloomy, disagreeable-looking person, and 
 she rarely smiled. Long practice in saying and 
 thinking unpleasant things had dragged down the 
 corners of her mouth and ploughed deep lines 
 between her eyes. She was a person who went 
 through hie with the firm conviction that she 
 was very much to be pitied. 
 
 "Well," she said, "ain't you lucky! I guess 
 you was born with a silver spoon in your mouth 
 if ever anybody was. Got a horse of your own, 
 like a little prince. And able to do charity and 
 give presents, too. But I'll thank you not to be 
 visitin' both houses. If you're bringin' presents 
 there, you'll kindly not come here." 
 
 "Mother!" exclaimed Rachel Amy, her color 
 deepening. 
 
 "Both houses?" repeated Chris, somewhat puz- 
 zled. "Oh, you mean your sister's half." 
 
 106
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "I mean that Miss Lucetta Smith's. She 
 ain't my sister any longer, I'd have you to un- 
 derstand." 
 
 Christopher stood looking at her. "How very 
 strange it is," he said, at last. "I would give 
 anything in the world to have a sister or a brother 
 all my own. I think I would rather have a sister, 
 because girls are nice, and I'd like to take care of 
 her always and love her. I would a great deal 
 rather have one than a horse or any of the things 
 grandfather gives me. We would always play 
 together, and when we grew up I'd have her 
 then, too, for my own. And you have one right 
 here in the same house and you don't want her. 
 It seems very strange. Do you suppose it is al- 
 ways that way, Mrs. Martin?" 
 
 "What way?" She spoke almost against her 
 will. She would have liked to believe that the 
 boy was preaching to her. Then she could have 
 resented it. But it was impossible to think 
 this. She could see that he was merely thinking 
 over the situation, and it surprised him. 
 
 "Why, that what we have we don't want, 
 and we want what we don't have." 
 
 "I can't answer for others, but I know it's 
 always been pretty much that way with me." 
 
 "I can't understand it," said Chris. "Not 
 when it's a sister. I should think you'd be so 
 glad of her you wouldn't mind at all about George 
 
 107
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 and Lucy. I should love to have George and 
 Lucy, too. It must be splendid to have rela- 
 tions. But I have my grandfather. Once, you 
 know, I didn't have him. But oh, Mrs. Martin, a 
 sister is such a nice person to have belonging to 
 you! It does seem such a waste not to be friends 
 with her. Don't you think you really could?" 
 
 "No!" cried Mrs. Martin, with vehemence. 
 
 Chris moved toward the door. "It is very 
 strange," said he again. "It isn't as if it were a 
 thing you could buy." 
 
 Rachel Amy followed him out of the front door. 
 "Don't mind her," she whispered. "I don't 
 think she's feeling very well. Oh, Chris, what a 
 beautiful horse! And is he really all your own? 
 And don't you have to use crutches any more? 
 Oh, I'm so glad!" 
 
 "I was waiting for you to notice about the 
 crutches," said he, much gratified. 
 
 "It's perfectly splendid," said Rachel Amy. 
 "Doesn't it seem very queer to be living with 
 General Keith, Chris? Aren't you afraid of him?" 
 
 Christopher laughed. "Afraid of grandfather? 
 Why, of course not!" 
 
 "Well, most folks are." 
 
 "I never was, even before I knew he was my 
 grandfather." 
 
 Christopher mounted his horse and rode away, 
 and Rachel Amy stood watching him just as the 
 
 108
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Toppans had done, and as the men over at the 
 store were also doing. It seemed so wonderful 
 to them all. In the course of time they became 
 accustomed in Maybury to the sight of Chris- 
 topher on horseback, but at first it was the chief 
 subject of interest and conversation. 
 
 When Rachel Amy went into the house her 
 mother came out of the parlor. She, too, had 
 been watching through the crack of the shade, 
 which she had drawn slightly aside. The shades 
 were seldom raised in the parlor for fear the sun 
 would spoil the carpet. 
 
 "Well," she said, "did he give you a present, 
 too?" 
 
 "Oh no, mother!" 
 
 "Well, I never! And you were always more 
 his friend than that little minx in next door. 
 Now, what has she done, I'd like to know, that 
 would cause him to bring her a present of five 
 dollars, and tell her to go buy something over to 
 the Boston Store? Charity, I suppose. That's 
 all. But if I was Miss Lucetta Smith I'd be 
 above lettin' my niece and adopted daughter 
 receive charity. To think of all the money Miss 
 Lucetta Smith has got laid away as ought to 
 have been yours, Rachel Amy, as much her niece 
 as any one, not to say more, having lived to- 
 gether all your life and seemin' to set such store 
 by you! And all I did for her, too!" 
 
 109
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Rachel Amy gathered her courage in both 
 hands, as it were. "Aunt Lucetta is just as 
 fond of me as she ever was, mother, and you 
 know it, and she loves you, too, as much as ever. 
 It's you, mother! It's you keeps up the quarrel. 
 Oh, mother, won't you take the netting down 
 and be friends again? Oh, mother, mother, 
 please take the netting down!" 
 
 Mrs. Martin grasped her daughter's arms and 
 shook her slightly. "Never!" she said. "Never! 
 And don't you ever speak of it again. There, 
 I've got that pain again. You've got to keep 
 quiet, Rachel Amy, and not excite me. I can't 
 stand it." 
 
 "What's the matter, mother? I didn't know 
 you had any pain." 
 
 "Oh, it's nothing. It's gone now. But don't 
 you mention any such subject as that. It brings 
 it right on. Do you hear?" 
 
 "Yes, mother," said the girl. . 
 
 She wondered if her mother were really ill. 
 Certainly her face looked white and drawn; but 
 always she had made much of her ailments, and 
 experience had taught Rachel Amy that it was 
 never worth while to be unduly alarmed. She 
 went back to her work with a heavy heart. Life 
 had become very sad for Rachel Amy, for she 
 loved her aunt Lucetta.
 
 vm 
 
 ON the first day of June the Hamilton family 
 arrived at Maybury Centre and established 
 themselves in the old farm-house which Mr. 
 Hamilton had bought, and which had been put 
 into complete order for his use. It was half- 
 past five in the afternoon when the train drew up 
 at the little station. The usual crowd of loungers 
 was awaiting it, and when the large party from 
 New York alighted, they, the village worthies, 
 felt that they had not waited in vain. This 
 evening there was really something to see. There 
 were Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, Florence, Charles, 
 Pauline, Betty, Betty's dog, and several persons 
 in addition who were designated as "the hired 
 help." The coming of the Hamiltons had long 
 been anticipated by Maybury, and the realiza- 
 tion of these anticipations was all that could be 
 desired. There was certainly something to look at. 
 The purchase of the old Pringle place by a 
 New York man had been one of the sensations 
 of the year. The residents of the village felt 
 that anything was now possible in its future. 
 
 8 111
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 The value of property would go up with leaps 
 and bounds. This was but the beginning of 
 good things. Until recently Maybury had re- 
 mained undiscovered by city people. General 
 Keith had owned his large and beautiful estate 
 there for many years, to be sure, but the summer 
 boarder, that advance-guard of city fashion, had 
 not as yet descended upon the place. With the 
 exception of the Hamiltons themselves, scarcely 
 any one of their kind had visited Maybury, and 
 therefore it still retained the quaintness and 
 charm which has now vanished from most coun- 
 try villages. 
 
 All the "teams" available were soon at the 
 service of the strangers, and presently a procession 
 of carry-alls and buggies drove along the main 
 street, and, passing the post-office, the hotel, and 
 the drug store, turned off upon the road which 
 led past the Toppan Farm to Keith Hall. Very 
 soon, however, they took another turn to the 
 left, and, skirting the edge of Maybury Lake, they 
 drove through the woods and then emerged upon 
 an open road, on either side of which the fields 
 and apple orchards gave evidence of the close 
 proximity of a farm. At last they turned in at 
 a gate, and following an entrance road, grass- 
 grown and rutty, they finally drew up at the side 
 of a long, rambling house, which, with ells and 
 
 out-houses and barn closely adjoining, seemed to 
 112
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 be of considerable size. It consisted of but two 
 stories, but it was so long that it covered a large 
 amount of space. It had been in great need of 
 repair when Mr. Hamilton bought it, but now, with 
 fresh paint outside and with all the comforts that 
 modern life can give within doors, it had become 
 a charming summer home. Nothing had been 
 done to alter the appearance of age. The paint 
 was white, both outside and in. The old doors, 
 with their quaint glass handles or still more 
 ancient latches, the high chimney-shelves above 
 the great fireplaces, the wainscoting, the little 
 cupboards that one came upon in all sorts of un- 
 expected places, the steep stairs, and even the 
 faint, intangible smell that clings to an old farm- 
 house all were there, as well as some of the an- 
 cient furniture which had been bought with the 
 house, and which Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton con- 
 sidered the most important part of the purchase. 
 The approach to the farm was up a gentle but 
 long incline, consequently the house lay a number 
 of feet higher than the village, and the view from 
 the piazzas as well as from the upper windows 
 was very fine. The lake, which was quite a largo 
 body of water, irregular in shape and long rather 
 than broad, was near at hand, a steep path leading 
 directly down to its shores. Beyond the gleam- 
 ing water was the railroad, and beyond that were 
 woods and valleys and hills. 
 
 113
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Pauline lingered alone on the west porch. The 
 others had all hurried into the house, eager to 
 explore its undiscovered resources ; but she, with 
 the instinct of the artist, stayed to watch the 
 changing colors of lake and sky, unheeding the 
 arrival of trunks or the tramping of feet, the 
 shouts of the delighted family and the excited 
 barking of Brown, who felt that his travels now 
 were over. She had her travelling - bag in her 
 hand, and presently she sat down on the steps, 
 and, opening it, searched in its depths until she 
 found a little blank-book. In this she wrote a 
 description of the view as her eyes saw it. She 
 did not attempt to put it into rhyme or verse. 
 That would come later. It was necessary to 
 her, however, to express her joy in what she saw 
 in written language. 
 
 She was interrupted by Charles. 
 
 "I say," said he, "isn't this corking? Paul, 
 you'd better stop scribbling and go up-stairs. 
 If you don't, Betty will have grabbed the whole 
 place there." 
 
 Pauline felt that it really did not much matter 
 what Betty did if only she herself could look at 
 the view; this was her first thought. But pres- 
 ently the practical side of her nature asserted 
 itself, and she went up to investigate for herself. 
 The room which she and Betty were to share was 
 on the corner of the house directly above where 
 
 114
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 she had been sitting on the porch. The windows, 
 therefore, commanded the same view as that 
 which she had been watching. It was a large 
 room, with a high white wainscoting and an old- 
 fashioned blue-and-white paper. The two beds 
 were on opposite sides of the room, and were small 
 and painted white. There was a large fireplace, 
 and on either side of the chimney was a cupboard. 
 The chairs were old-fashioned and stiff, with high 
 backs, and there was a chest of drawers for each 
 girl with a small glass above it. There was a 
 straw matting on the floor, and upon it were 
 oblong rugs made of woven rags. Florence's 
 room was next to theirs, on the side of the house, 
 and was not unlike it in general appearance, al- 
 though somewhat smaller. On the opposite side 
 of the little hall was Mrs. Hamilton's room, and 
 next to hers the guest-chamber. The boys' room 
 was in the ell, as was also an extra room for their 
 friends. The servants had another ell to them- 
 selves, over the kitchen, and a room that was now 
 to be used as a laundry. 
 
 "You take the right side of everything and I'll 
 take the left," said Betty, briskly, when Pauline 
 came in, "just as we always do." She was 
 hurrying about in a very business-like way, un- 
 packing and arranging her possessions. "Aren't 
 those window-seats splendid? There's only one 
 table. Who will have it?" 
 
 115
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "You can have the table if you will let me have 
 this western window with the view for my ownty- 
 own," replied Pauline. 
 
 "Can't I ever look out of it?" 
 
 "Oh yes, of course you can look out of it, but 
 I want to own it and sit here when I like," said 
 Pauline, gazing across the lake as she spoke. 
 
 "All right. I'd rather have the table than the 
 view. I suppose you'll keep your ink and things 
 on your window-sill." 
 
 This was a new thought to Pauline. In her 
 anxiety to secure the view she had forgotten 
 more practical advantages. 
 
 "Perhaps I can find an old desk somewhere," 
 she said, after considering the matter. " You can 
 have the table and that extra cupboard if you'll 
 promise not to interfere with my having the whole 
 of the desk, if I find one, and I keep the window." 
 
 "All right," agreed Betty. To her a table in 
 the hand was worth far more than any desks in 
 the bush. 
 
 And this important matter being settled, they 
 went down-stairs to join the rest of the family at 
 their first supper at the farm. 
 
 The next morning was even more wonderful 
 to the Hamiltons than the night of their arrival. 
 To wake up in the country, in rooms that were 
 strange and yet their own; to look from the 
 windows and see the bright June sun lighting up 
 
 116
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 lake and pasture, garden and field, and shining 
 upon a world so quiet and so peaceful, so far re- 
 moved from the noisy traffic and turmoil of a great 
 city; to feel the soft June breeze, to smell the 
 sweet June perfumes, to hear the birds singing 
 their June songs could it be the world in which 
 they had awakened only yesterday, the yesterday 
 which now seemed weeks or months ago? 
 
 Pauline lingered over her dressing, for most of 
 it was done at her favorite window, and it is not 
 easy to button your boots or brush your hair 
 when you are at the same time studying a distant 
 landscape ; but Betty wasted no precious moments 
 in poetic meditations. She was soon ready for 
 action, and with a parting injunction to Pauline 
 to "hurry up and come down," she left the room 
 and began the day. 
 
 The first thing to be visited was the lake. It 
 had been too late when they finished supper the 
 night before at least so her parents thought, 
 not Betty to descend the path, and therefore 
 it must now be done at once. Betty had made 
 many plans about the lake. There was to be a 
 sail-boat, a row-boat, a canoe, and a motor-boat 
 according to Miss Betty. She loved the water, 
 and had passed many of her summers at the sea- 
 shore. A lake was but a poor substitute for an 
 ocean, but better than no water at all, in which 
 opinion Charles agreed with her. She found him 
 
 117
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 already on the little strip of sandy beach at the 
 foot of the path when she reached it. 
 
 "There's an old boat-house," he said, "and I 
 mean to ask father to let me have a man to-day 
 to help me and we'll try to put it into better shape. 
 It needs shingling. There's an old boat here, 
 too. Looks as if Noah had used it when he took 
 Mrs. Noah rowing by moonlight. I shouldn't 
 wonder if it were really about a hundred years 
 old. Look at it, half full of water." 
 
 "When are the new boats coming?" 
 
 "Oh, we're only going to have one at first. 
 Father says he's been spending so much on this 
 place he'll have to go easy for a while. He's 
 going to buy a good row-boat, and I'm going to 
 put that money I've saved up into a canoe that 
 is, if I get any money on my birthday, next week, 
 to help out." 
 
 "And aren't we going to have a sail-boat and 
 a motor-boat?" asked Betty. 
 
 "Not this year, anyway, and I don't see what 
 we want either for. There's a lot to do on land. 
 It isn't like being on the coast, where you have 
 to be on the water all the time if you want any 
 fun." 
 
 Betty did not reply. This would have been a 
 crushing disappointment to her had she been 
 told of it in New York, but here on the spot, 
 where, as Charles said, there was so much else to 
 
 118
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 do, she really did not care. She was investigat- 
 ing the shore in the immediate vicinity of the 
 path. Presently she gave a loud shout which 
 evidently meant some great discovery. 
 
 "Charles, do come here! Quick! I've found 
 oh, Charles, I'm sure it's an underground 
 passage!" 
 
 Charles was very busy with the old boat. "All 
 right. It will keep," he replied. 
 
 " Oh, it's wonderful !" cried Betty. " I'm creep- 
 ing in! It leads ever so far." Her voice grew 
 fainter as she ventured farther into the opening. 
 
 Presently she emerged again. "I'm going to 
 explore it 'way in," she said. " I would have now, 
 only I thought it would soon be breakfast-time 
 and I'm so hungry. It is most mysterious. You 
 must look at it, Charles." 
 
 She finally persuaded him to leave the ancient 
 boat and examine the opening. It was at the 
 base of the steep bank, and seemed to have been 
 made by man, not formed by nature. It was 
 lined with stones, and the entrance was so over- 
 grown with bushes that it would not be noticed 
 by the casual visitor to the shore of the lake. 
 Betty's sharp eyes, eager to find all that there was 
 of interest, had seen it at once. Charles was dis- 
 tinctly impressed by her discovery. 
 
 "It is an underground passage," said he. "I 
 shouldn't wonder if it led right up to the house. 
 
 119
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 I bet they built it so as to escape from the Indians. 
 This is such an old house it must have been built 
 in the days of Indians. Don't say anything about 
 it, Betty. We'll have some fun with it before 
 we tell the others. We can play some joke on 
 the maids, or something like that. Now don't 
 tell!" 
 
 "Of course not," said Betty, promptly, de- 
 lighted to have a secret with Charles, and equally 
 pleased at his feeling that her find was of suf- 
 ficient importance to be kept a secret. 
 
 And then the breakfast-bell was heard ringing, 
 and they joyfully obeyed its summons and re- 
 turned to the house. After breakfast it was 
 necessary to decide about gardens, to divide up 
 the land allotted to them for that purpose, and 
 to choose whether they should raise flowers or 
 vegetables. The barn had to be explored, the 
 hennery investigated, the question of incubators 
 inquired into (for Charles meditated making a 
 fortune in selling eggs to his mother, and for a 
 time an incubator seemed a better investment for 
 idle money than a canoe), the shingling of the 
 boat-house must be begun, and altogether there 
 was so much to occupy every one that the under- 
 ground passage was entirely forgotten, and neither 
 Charles nor Betty thought of it again for a long 
 time. 
 
 At about three o'clock that afternoon, when 
 120
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton, after a busy morning, had gone 
 to her room to rest, two figures were seen ap- 
 proaching by Florence and Pauline. They were 
 those of a tall, thin woman, who walked with a 
 hurried, nervous step, and a young girl of about 
 Pauline's age. They came up the rough, grass- 
 grown avenue which led to the house, and passing 
 without a glance the end of the eastern porch, 
 where the Hamilton girls were sitting, they went 
 to the front door and rang the bell. 
 
 "Who can they be?" whispered Florence. 
 "You go and see what they want, Paul; the 
 maids are so busy." Florence was comfortably 
 placed in the hammock, and thought it would be 
 much easier for Pauline to rise than for her to do 
 so. Besides, of what use would be a younger 
 sister if not to go on errands? 
 
 Pauline laid aside her book and went around 
 the corner of the house, accompanied by Brownie, 
 barking violently at the strangers. 
 
 "Do you wish to see any of the family?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Pauline was not pretty in fact, she was con- 
 sidered rather plain in comparison with her two 
 sisters; but her manner was so pleasant, her voice 
 so cordial, and her eyes so friendly that most 
 people found her very attractive. The young 
 girl, who was no other than Rachel Amy Martin, 
 
 looked at her with interest. She had not wished 
 121
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 to come this afternoon because she did not care 
 for Betty, but her mother had insisted that she 
 should accompany her to make the call which 
 Mrs. Martin had determined to pay without delay. 
 She was glad that this was not Betty, and won- 
 dered if it could be a sister, and where Betty 
 might be. 
 
 Mrs. Martin turned quickly and confronted 
 Pauline. 
 
 "Well, I guess that's what we've come for," 
 she replied, with her usual asperity. *'I guess 
 nothin' else would bring us up this hill. P'r'aps 
 you thought we'd come to see some of the help. 
 If so, you're mistaken. I'd thank you if you'd 
 stop that dog barkin'. I'm Mrs. Martin, one of 
 the Maybury Centre ladies, and I've come to call 
 on Mrs. Hamilton. Bein* a stranger here, I 
 thought she'd feel kind o' lonesome and I'd call 
 without delay. Of course, it's my place to come 
 first. It's etiquettical, and I always was one 
 as paid great attention to what's etiquettical. 
 Whatever my faults, I'm not caught nappin' 
 that way. You're one of the hired help, I sup- 
 pose. A half-grown girl can make herself real 
 handy." 
 
 Pauline laughed. "I'm Pauline Hamilton," 
 she said. "I will tell my mother you are here. 
 Will you come in?" 
 
 Mrs. Martin was at first quite overcome at hav- 
 
 122
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 ing mistaken a daughter of the house for "hired 
 help." "But," as she said afterward, "who 
 would have supposed that a young lady accus- 
 tomed to New York city life would be in a plain 
 chintz dress, as plain as a pike-staff, at three 
 o'clock of an afternoon, which, as every one 
 knows, is the proper hour for paying and re- 
 ceiving calls?" 
 
 She murmured an apology for her mistake and 
 followed Pauline into the living-room, into which 
 the front door opened. The room, which had once 
 been the "best parlor " of the farm-house, had been 
 thrown into one with the hall, making a very large 
 room, from which the narrow, old-fashioned stair- 
 case led directly up to the second floor. Mrs. 
 Martin looked about her with a critical eye. 
 There was no plush-covered parlor set, no centre- 
 table, no corner etagere, or what-not, as were to 
 be found in all well-regulated best parlors. There 
 was no melodeon, although there was an upright 
 piano, which stood open, and upon the top of which 
 there was not a single ornament. 
 
 "I presume they're not fixed up yet," remarked 
 Mrs. Martin, audibly, to Rachel Amy. "That's 
 one reason why I sh'd have preferred to call later; 
 but I'd no intention of lettin' that Miss Lucetta 
 Smith get ahead of me on this, as I've remarked 
 before, Rachel Amy. That girl didn't look a 
 mite like the red-headed one, did she? Well, 
 
 123
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 it's real plain here, I must say. Look at those 
 rugs! And as for that wilier rocker, it couldn't 
 have cost more'n " 
 
 " Mother," whispered Rachel Amy, imploringly, 
 "they can hear right up those stairs!" 
 
 Before her mother had time to reply, which, to 
 judge from her expression, would have been done 
 quickly and scathingly, Mrs. Hamilton came down 
 the stairs in question. 
 
 "Mrs. Martin?" she said, cordially, as she shook 
 hands. "And this must be your daughter, whom 
 I have heard my Betty speak of. Your name is 
 Rachel Amy, isn't it?" 
 
 Rachel Amy felt distinctly pleased that her 
 name should be remembered, and she smiled at 
 the lady who greeted her so kindly. 
 
 "You will like to go out on the piazza with 
 Pauline, I am sure, while we elders sit inside. I 
 don't know where Betty is. She has been out-of- 
 doors all day, she is so glad to get to the country. 
 Perhaps you can find her, Pauline, for I have no 
 doubt Rachel Amy has come to see her." 
 
 "No matter about looking up Betty," said 
 Rachel Amy, as the two girls left the room, "I'm 
 just as pleased to call on you." 
 
 Pauline introduced her to Florence, and the 
 three manufactured conversation on the porch 
 while their mothers did the same in the house. 
 At the end of half an hour Mrs. Martin rose to go. 
 
 124
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "I want you should come to a four-o'clock at 
 my house," said she. "I'll send you a card when 
 the time comes. I know what's the proper thing 
 to do. I'm going to ask some of the Maybury 
 Centre ladies to meet you not all of 'em, by any 
 means. I intend to pick and choose the best, and 
 I shall invite a friend of mine from West Maybury. 
 Mrs. Davis is one of my most intimate friends over 
 there. She visits in New York city, and just as 
 likely as not you've met before. I'd like your 
 young folks to come, too. I'll send out cards." 
 
 She called Rachel Amy, and presently they were 
 going down the avenue with the same hurried 
 step with which they had come. Mrs. Hamilton 
 watched them. She was on the porch with her 
 daughters, and when the visitors were out of sight 
 she turned to the girls with an amused face. 
 
 "What an extraordinary woman our first call- 
 er is!" she said. "She practically informed me 
 that she was surprised to find me in a morning 
 dress at this hour. I am afraid Maybury customs 
 in the matter of dress are going to be more rigor- 
 ous than those of New York. And she also told 
 me that she was engaged to be married, but was 
 in no hurry to change her state. Betty, here you 
 are at last! Where have you been, child? You 
 have missed a caller two callers." 
 
 "Oh, I saw them," said Betty, as she came up 
 the steep path from the lake. "It was Rachel 
 
 125
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Amy and her mother. That's the reason I stayed 
 away." 
 
 "I like that Rachel Amy," said Pauline, 
 thoughtfully. "She looks as if she didn't have 
 much fun, and she felt so sorry because her mother 
 made a mistake and thought I was one of the 
 maids." 
 
 "We are all invited, or going to be invited, there 
 to a 'four -o'clock/" continued Mrs. Hamilton. 
 "Only the best people are to be asked to meet us, 
 and not 'that Miss Lucetta Smith/ who lives next 
 door to the Martins. Who can she be? Some 
 one quite beneath notice from a social stand- 
 point, Mrs. Martin seems to think." 
 
 "Why, it is her own sister!" exclaimed Betty. 
 "And they live in the same house with a wire 
 netting between. They're the ones I told you 
 about. She is engaged to Tim Tarleton, the man 
 who drives a station carriage." 
 
 "We must go to the party," said Mrs. Ham- 
 ilton. "I am quite curious to see the netting. 
 That poor little Rachel Amy! I feel very sorry 
 for her." 
 
 " So do I," said Pauline. "I mean to be friends 
 with Rachel Amy." 
 
 "I wish you would," said Betty; "that would 
 take her off my hands. I like Lucy Smith best, 
 though she's a terrible coward, and behaved like 
 
 a little goose once when we were caught in a bad 
 120
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 scrape last year. But you're welcome to Rachel 
 Amy." 
 
 "Let us do all we can for her," said their 
 mother. "It is sad for a girl to be placed in her 
 position." 
 
 "I suppose it is," assented Betty, "but there is 
 something about Rachel Amy Martin that always 
 makes me cross." 
 
 "Betty, isn't that unreasonable?" 
 
 " Or is it unusual ?" added Florence. ' ' So many 
 people and things make you cross." 
 
 "It must run in the family," said Betty. "I 
 take after my eldest sister." 
 
 Pauline laughed. "She's got you there, Flo." 
 
 "Children, I don't like to have you talk to 
 one another in that way," said Mrs. Hamilton. 
 "What would either one of you do if you had no 
 brothers and sisters, and were alone with such a 
 very disagreeable mother as Mrs. Martin seems 
 to be? And perhaps she has had something in 
 her life to make her so. You never can tell. 
 Illness, or sorrow, or poverty, or disgrace of some 
 sort may have soured and sharpened her. Any 
 one of us might become like that if we met with 
 great trouble, and had not sufficient strength of 
 mind to stand up against it." 
 
 "Not you, darling mother!" exclaimed Pauline, 
 going to her and giving her a hug. "You would 
 only get lovelier and lovelier; wouldn't she, girls?" 
 
 "9 127
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Indeed she would!" said Florence and Betty 
 together, in perfect harmony once more. Their 
 little disagreements and differences never lasted 
 long. The Hamiltons all loved one another dear- 
 ly, and their disputes were only such as are bound 
 to arise among a number of brothers and sisters 
 who are growing up together, each with his or 
 her own strong will, and with the first unfolding 
 of a yet uncertain character. 
 
 "You flatter me, dear ones," said Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton. "But I want you all to be good to that poor 
 child. I feel so very sorry for her. I could see 
 that she was afraid of her mother." 
 
 "I should think she would be," said Betty. 
 "That Mrs. Martin is a perfectly awful person. 
 Miss Lucetta Smith is very nice, and she and 
 Rachel Amy used to be so fond of each other; 
 and now, since Miss Lucetta adopted George and 
 Lucy, poor Rachel Amy isn't allowed to speak 
 to her. If Rachel Amy were not such a proud 
 person, I suppose I should like her better. Of 
 course, I am sorry for her. If her mother would 
 only marry Tim Tarleton and go off somewhere, 
 and leave Rachel Amy with her aunt Lucetta, 
 how nice it would be! Yes, I feel very sorry for 
 Rachel Amy. But she is so proud!" 
 
 "How do you mean?" asked Pauline. 
 
 "Well, I mean stuck-up about her long 
 braid, for instance. If I had a long braid of hair 
 
 128
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 I never should mention to my dearest, most in- 
 timate friend how many twists there were in it. 
 She did, almost the first time I ever saw her, and 
 it was in Sunday-school." Betty shook her own 
 curly head very wisely and with great superiority 
 as she spoke. 
 
 "I don't think that was so dreadful," said 
 Pauline, who had definitely established herself 
 as the friend and champion of Rachel Amy. 
 
 "But she always acts so very stuck-up about 
 everything. She makes you feel as if she thought 
 herself ever so much gooder than you are." 
 
 "Oh, that may be your imagination, Betty," 
 said her mother. "But I believe we are going 
 to have another visitor two, in fact : General 
 Keith and Christopher! Betty, go tell your fa- 
 ther General Keith is here." And she added, in 
 a lower tone: "I shall have to dress early in May- 
 bury, I see." 
 
 General Keith and his grandson were on horse- 
 back. The boy had expressed a desire to ride 
 over to see the Hamiltons, and to his surprise, 
 the General had said that he would go also. He 
 knew that his grandfather, not being of a genial 
 disposition, was averse to making calls, and he 
 was glad that he evidently intended being on 
 terms of friendliness, if not intimacy, with the 
 Hamiltons. He supposed that it was because 
 of the connection by marriage between them 
 
 129
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 and the family of his grandfather, for Mr. Ham- 
 ilton's sister had married Ludovic Lewis, his 
 grandmother's nephew. It did not occur to him 
 that General Keith was making this great effort 
 and altering his usual habits solely on his account. 
 If the boy wished to go the General would go, too. 
 He could not bear to have him out of his sight 
 even for an hour or so. Therefore, the two came 
 together; and while Chris went off with Pauline 
 and Betty to look for Mr. Hamilton and Charles, 
 General Keith talked in his stately, courteous way 
 to Mrs. Hamilton and Florence, and impatiently 
 awaited the boy's return. It was evident to Mrs. 
 Hamilton, who was a keen observer, that the old 
 man had become completely absorbed in his 
 grandson, or, rather, that he intended to absorb 
 the boy in himself, and she felt a pang of pity for 
 the child, just as she had felt for Rachel Amy, 
 although the circumstances of the two were so 
 different. 
 
 Mr. Hamilton and Charles were found down 
 at the boat-house. They were shingling it them- 
 selves, and Mr. Hamilton was so pleased with his 
 carpentry that he forsook it rather unwillingly 
 to go to his visitor. Charles was too much ab- 
 sorbed in it to pay much attention to the chil- 
 dren, and presently they left him, and, after ex- 
 ploring the shore of the lake and looking at the 
 boat with a strong desire to try it in spite of 
 
 130
 
 its leakiness, they climbed the steep path again, 
 and Betty and Chris went to the big barn while 
 Pauline returned to the house. 
 
 "Has Rachel Amy been here?" asked Chris- 
 topher, as soon as he was alone with Betty. 
 
 "Yes. How did you know it?" 
 
 "We met them on the road. I thought they 
 must have been here. Mrs. Martin hates me now. 
 She just glared at me, and she wouldn't let 
 Rachel Amy speak to me." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "Because she thinks I gave Lucy Smith a 
 present. She came up to see grandfather about 
 it." 
 
 "Why, Chris! What do you mean?" asked 
 Betty, deeply interested. "Let's sit down here 
 on this pile of hay, and you tell me all about it. 
 Here is some candy I got in the village sassa- 
 fras sticks; it is lovely. Now go on and tell 
 me." 
 
 "Fm afraid I can't. You see, it's a great 
 secret," said Chris, accepting a stick of candy 
 with manifest pleasure. 
 
 "A secret? Aren't you going to tell me? 
 Why, Christopher Lovel! And I tell you all my 
 secrets (at least, I did last summer), and I mean 
 to this year, too that is, if you will do the 
 same." 
 
 "But I didn't tell this even to grandfather, 
 
 131
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 because I had promised I wouldn't. He trusted 
 me, and said he wouldn't ask me any more if 
 I had promised; but he didn't like it very 
 much." 
 
 "But what did you do that Mrs. Martin didn't 
 like? That can't be a secret, if she knows it 
 and went to see your grandfather. You can at 
 least tell me that much." 
 
 "Grandfather said it was all nonsense. He 
 was very angry with Mrs. Martin. The day 
 after we came up here I took something to Lucy 
 Smith. I had been asked by some one to give 
 it to her, and Mrs. Martin heard me and thought 
 I was giving charity, as she called it, to Lucy, 
 and she came up and told grandfather that I had. 
 Grandfather was very angry at being interrupted. 
 We were playing the violin when she came. He 
 told her I was at liberty to give away as much as 
 I liked; but afterward he asked me about it, and 
 didn't like it because I couldn't explain it all to 
 him. However, he said he trusted me." 
 
 "I think I know what it was," said Betty. 
 "It was something George sent Lucy." 
 
 "Why, Betty!" cried Chris. "How did you 
 guess it? You are the most wonderful person!" 
 
 "Oh, I saw George Smith yesterday when we 
 changed cars. He was waiting to go back on the 
 train to Boston. I didn't have time to speak to 
 him. So now I have guessed this much, I don't 
 
 132
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 see why you shouldn't tell me more. I'll be very 
 careful never to tell." 
 
 Christopher considered the matter. " Mrs. Mar- 
 tin is telling the whole village that Miss Lucetta 
 and Lucy are living on charity," he said, at last. 
 "I feel so sorry, and if I could only see George 
 or get word to him somehow I should ask him if 
 I might tell." 
 
 "You leave me to manage it," said Betty. "I 
 can guess the whole thing. He sent Lucy some 
 money by you, and Mrs. Martin overheard you, 
 and thought you were giving Lucy money your- 
 self. She is an awful woman, Chris. My mother 
 thinks we ought to do something for Rachel Amy, 
 and I am going to think up something I'm not 
 quite sure what." 
 
 "I don't see what we can do. Her mother is 
 with her all the time. But, Betty, you mustn't 
 do anything to manage that about George. You 
 know I promised him, and I haven't told you now; 
 you only guessed it. Please don't do anything, 
 will you?" 
 
 "Oh, well, not if you don't want me to. But 
 there is something else I must do. I don't care 
 much for Rachel A.my, but I should like to rescue 
 her from her misery." 
 
 "Betty, how could you do anything?" 
 
 " I don't know. Maybe I'll think of something." 
 
 Chris looked at her as though he considered her 
 
 133
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 quite capable of accomplishing even such an 
 undertaking as that would be. 
 
 "Didn't George look nice in his uniform?" said 
 she, presently. 
 
 "Yes, it must be great fun to be a railroad 
 man. I mean to, if I ever have to work for my 
 living." 
 
 "And sell papers on the train? As if your 
 grandfather would let you do that! Why, Chris, 
 he has loads and loads of money." 
 
 " I might have to," said the boy. " But there's 
 grandfather calling. It must be time to go. 
 What shall I call my pony, Betty? I have been 
 waiting for you to come to name him." 
 
 "Have you, really? Well, I've thought of a 
 name right away." 
 
 "What is it? I knew you'd know of a good 
 one." 
 
 " I never heard of a horse that was named this, 
 but I like it. Will you promise to call him by it, 
 whether you like it or not?" 
 
 "Yes!" exclaimed Chris, recklessly. 
 
 "Then his name is to be Sassafras." 
 
 "Sassafras! Why, Betty, what a name for a 
 horse !" 
 
 "You promised, and it is a splendid name so 
 hissy and stingy. You'd know a horse named 
 Sassafras was a fast one. Here, take another 
 stick." 
 
 134
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "All right," said Christopher, slowly. "It's a 
 queer one, but I rather like it." He accepted the 
 candy, and presently he had mounted his pony, 
 and he and his grandfather rode away through 
 the woods.
 
 IX 
 
 "/CHRISTOPHER," said General Keith one 
 V^ morning, "there is something I wish to speak 
 to you about very particularly." 
 
 The boy was sitting on the piazza steps. A 
 humming-bird was in the honeysuckle, and while 
 he watched it he wondered what he should do 
 that morning. He wished very much to drive 
 over to the Hamiltons'. His grandfather had 
 given him a pretty runabout, and his chief desire 
 now was to show it to Betty, who had not yet 
 seen it. He was afraid that if he suggested going 
 his grandfather would accompany him or would 
 send Ben with him, and he liked occasionally to 
 be independent of others. Calling at the Hamil- 
 tons' with his grandfather was very different 
 from a long morning of play or work with Betty 
 and Pauline, and occasionally Charles. Chris felt 
 a deep admiration for Charles, and was always 
 pleased when the older boy vouchsafed him even a 
 small amount of attention. He did not feel at 
 all in the mood for discussing matters of im- 
 portance with his grandfather. On a beautiful 
 
 136
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 summer morning like this there was so much that 
 was more entertaining to do. 
 
 "Do you, grandfather?" he said, without turn- 
 ing round. "I wonder if that humming-bird has 
 a nest anywhere round here. Did you ever see 
 a humming-bird's nest, grand?" 
 
 "Certainly certainly. But never mind about 
 that now, Christopher." 
 
 The General rose from his chair on the porch, 
 and began to walk up and down. Christopher 
 knew from this that he considered the subject 
 of especial importance. He wondered if they were 
 going away from Maybury perhaps to travel 
 again. He hoped not, just as the Hamiltons had 
 come. 
 
 "Christopher," said the General, "I wish you 
 to take my name." 
 
 "Your name, grandfather? Baldwin, do you 
 mean?" 
 
 "No, that is not necessary. You should have 
 been named Baldwin in the first place, but you 
 were not." 
 
 "I was named for my father," said the boy, 
 flushing slightly. "I was Christopher Lovel, Jr., 
 until until my father died." 
 
 "I know that I know that. No need to tell 
 me that. All that is over and done with. You 
 are not junior now. You are my grandson, how- 
 ever, and, considering the large interests that 
 137
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 are involved, I think it would be better and more 
 suitable if you were to take the name of Keith." 
 
 "But my name is not Keith, it is Lovel." 
 
 "It can very easily be changed. By applying 
 to the legislature and going through certain legal 
 proceedings your name can be changed by law 
 from Lovel to Keith. If you chose, you could still 
 keep the Lovel as a middle name; in fact, that 
 might be a good plan. But I want you to bear 
 the name of Keith. You will, in all probability, 
 inherit the greater part of my fortune. It is 
 Keith money. It came from my father. There 
 has always been money in my family. My first 
 ancestor in this country was Sir Baldwin Keith, 
 who came over in 1670. We have been named 
 Baldwin from father to son ever since. My son" 
 his voice trembled slightly "was Baldwin. 
 The last of his line the last of his line." He 
 paced up and down in silence for a few minutes. 
 When he spoke again his voice was as cold and 
 severe as usual. 
 
 "Now, then," said he, "I shall take measures 
 at once to have your name changed to Keith." 
 
 "But it is not Keith," said Christopher. 
 
 "I know it is not!" The old man spoke irasci- 
 bly now. "I have just explained to you, Chris- 
 topher, how such a matter is arranged. I intend 
 to have it made Keith." 
 
 "But I don't want it to be Keith, grandfather." 
 
 138
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "You don't want it to be! And why not, may 
 I ask? What possible objection can you have, 
 sir, to the name of Keith?" 
 
 When the General said "sir" to Chris it meant 
 that he was becoming annoyed. 
 
 "I have no objection to it, grandfather. I 
 think it is a very nice name. But it wasn't my 
 father's name." 
 
 "But I have explained to you why I wish you 
 to take it. I prefer that the Keith money should 
 go with the name of Keith." 
 
 "Isn't there anybody of that name you could 
 give the money to?" 
 
 "No, sir, there is not! And I am not contem- 
 plating giving the money to any one. It is a 
 question of leaving it. I shall not live forever. 
 There is no more proper person to inherit all this" 
 his glance wandered over the beautiful pros- 
 pect as he spoke: the lawns, the flower garden, 
 the oddly shaped trees, the woods and fields, all his 
 own, and yet some day he must pass on to some- 
 thing else and be "buried with his fathers," the 
 other Baldwin Keiths, who also had been obliged 
 to leave behind them the great fortune that had 
 been doubling and trebling itself for so many 
 years "there is no more proper person to in- 
 herit all this than my grandson, but he must bear 
 the name of Keith." 
 
 "You are very kind, grand," began Christopher. 
 
 139
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Kind!" shouted the General. "Don't speak 
 of me as being kind. Why shouldn't I be kind? 
 You are my daughter's son. You have as much 
 right to it all as though you had been my son's 
 son." 
 
 "But not to the name. You see, there was 
 father. I am father's son. And his name was 
 Christopher Lovel. And and he spoke to me 
 once about my name." 
 
 "He did, did he? And what did he say about 
 the name of Christopher Lovel?" 
 
 "He said to take care of it." 
 
 "Take care of it? What did he mean by that?" 
 
 "To keep it bright and clean. He said that 
 every Christopher Lovel who ever lived had been 
 an honest man, and he wanted me to be one, too. 
 He said he had no money to give me, but he had 
 given me an honest name, and it had never been 
 disgraced. There have been ever so many Chris- 
 topher Levels, grandfather, just as there have 
 been Baldwin Keiths, only I don't think the first 
 one in this country was a Sir. I guess he was just 
 plain mister." 
 
 "If that!" 
 
 "What do you mean, grandfather?" 
 
 "Nothing nothing! But I see nothing in all 
 this to prevent your changing your name." 
 
 "Oh, grand! Why, I do! How could I keep 
 the name bright and clean if I gave it up?" 
 
 140
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Nonsense! Your father would have been 
 willing enough to have you give it up if he had 
 supposed you would be the owner of millions of 
 dollars in consequence." 
 
 "No," said Chris; "excuse me, grand, but I 
 don't think so. My father used to tell me that 
 money wasn't everything. He said a kind heart 
 and a forgiving nature were worth more than 
 money. My father had to forgive somebody, I 
 don't know who it was somebody treated him 
 badly. A good many people did whom father 
 trusted, but this was some particular person who 
 did him a great wrong. I should like to speak 
 to that person just once, but I don't know who 
 it was. Father never would tell me. It was 
 somebody with a great deal of money. Do you 
 know, grand, I think if I ever found out who it 
 was I should just hate that man for a little while, 
 anyway. I might forgive him later. It seems 
 so awful to me now, now that you have given 
 me so much, that my father should have been so 
 poor, and that any one should have treated him 
 unkindly. I often think of it." 
 
 The General paused in his walk and stood be- 
 hind the boy on the steps. He cleared his throat 
 twice before he could speak. "Did did your 
 father forgive him, whoever it was?" 
 
 "I think he did yes, I'm sure he did. Who 
 do you suppose it was, grand? I used sometimes 
 
 141
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 to think that it might have been you, because, of 
 course, father and mother didn't know that all 
 that time you were trying to find us, and they 
 might have felt pretty badly about it, knowing 
 you were so rich and we were so poor. Of course, 
 now I never think that. I know you would never 
 have been so unkind. I know you so well that 
 I am sure you couldn't ever have been like that. 
 If I didn't know you so well I should feel the 
 same as I used to about it, but I am so sure you 
 tried to find us that I don't feel angry about it 
 any more. I wish they had known it, too. Why 
 did you give us up in the first place, grand? Did 
 my mother do something you didn't like besides 
 marrying father? Of course, I know that was 
 part of it, because Mrs. Toppan told me that when 
 I first came to Maybury. But of course there must 
 have been something else, too." 
 
 "Never mind about that now, and we will 
 finish our talk about the name some other time. 
 Where are you going this morning?" 
 
 Christopher stood up. This was, indeed, a 
 pleasant surprise. Evidently his grandfather 
 intended to allow him a morning to him- 
 self. 
 
 " I should like to drive Sassafras over to see the 
 Hamiltons in the runabout, I mean. I want 
 to show it to Betty. And no matter about Ben 
 going, grandfather." 
 
 142
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "I don't know about you going alone. Why 
 not take Ben?" 
 
 "Oh no, grandfather! Please! May I go with- 
 out him?" 
 
 "You may go. Come home to luncheon." 
 
 After the boy had gone the old man continued 
 his walk up and down, up and down. He had 
 much to think about. 
 
 When Chris reached the Pringle Farm, as the 
 Hamiltons continued to call their place, he found 
 a large party of young people assembled on the 
 piazza. Sassafras was tied in the carriage-house, 
 the runabout duly admired by Betty, and then she 
 informed him that it was a house party. Chris- 
 topher never having heard of a house party, 
 Betty further explained to him that it consisted 
 of some friends of her brother Maurice and her 
 sister Florence who had come to stay a week. 
 
 "And Maurice has come home from college, 
 which makes another fellow," continued Betty. 
 "That is Maurice, the one in the oldest clothes, 
 over there talking to the girl in the hammock. 
 The other fellow, the one who looks so spick and 
 span, is Bromfield Hale. He is Maurice's chum 
 at Harvard. They both got here last night, but 
 the others came day before yesterday. The girl 
 in the hammock is Josephine Hale. She lives 
 at Stockton, near Boston, and she and Florence 
 were at boarding-school together, and are most 
 
 to 143
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 intimate friends. She is Brom Hale's cousin, and 
 she lives with his father. She has a sister Geor- 
 giana, about Pauline's age. They have five boy 
 cousins and are the only girls in the house. It 
 must be great fun. I like Jo better than any of 
 Florence's New York friends. She's not so stuck 
 up and airish. The other girl, the one with the 
 dark hair, is Grace Fisher. She is from New 
 York. She is simply crazy about the fellows. 
 She just shows it. I think the boys like Jo Hale 
 the best, though. I am pretty sure Maurice does. 
 The other fellow, the one talking to Florence, is 
 Jack Kendal. He's very sweet on Flo. The 
 boys are all very nice to me," added Betty, com- 
 placently. "They all get up and offer me their 
 chairs when I come along, and are very pleasant. 
 They are so afraid I'll play some trick on them." 
 
 This long history was poured into Christopher's 
 ears as the children sat on the bench between two 
 trees. From this vantage-point they obtained 
 an excellent view of the group on the piazza. 
 Christopher surveyed the party with much in- 
 terest. 
 
 "It must be nice to have a house party," 
 he observed. "I wish grandfather would have 
 one." 
 
 Betty laughed. "It would be a funny kind of 
 a house party," she said. "If it was your grand- 
 father's it would have to be all old men and wom- 
 
 144
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 en. Your house parties are always about the 
 same age as yourself, I think. Pauline is going 
 to have one of her friends later, but mother says 
 I have got to wait until next year. It is horrid to 
 be the youngest and always have to wait. Charles 
 is going to have his friends, but only boys. He 
 says they don't want to be bothered with any 
 more girls than there are here already. Charles 
 doesn't care as much about girls as Maurice does. 
 Don't you think my brother Maurice is very 
 good-looking? There, I believe they've made up 
 their minds at last! They've been discussing the 
 whole morning what they would do to-day. What 
 are you going to-4oj" she called out. 
 
 But no one paid any attention to her, and it 
 was only by leaving Christopher and going to the 
 piazza that she could discover the reason for the 
 sudden stir in the group. She beckoned to Chris 
 to follow her, and he came shyly forward. 
 
 "They are going out on the lake, some of them, 
 and Maurice and Brom Hale are going to drive 
 down to the village to see if their canoes have 
 come. They are coming up from Boston. Brom 
 Hale is going to be here longer than the others, 
 so he brought his canoe, too. Chris, I've got 
 something for us to do this morning. I'm so glad 
 you came over. Come with me." 
 
 Christopher was sorry to leave the piazza, but 
 Betty's word was usually law, and her plans were 
 
 145
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 always interesting, so he obeyed her commands 
 and accompanied her around the corner of the 
 house to the kitchen door. They entered, and 
 passed through to a narrow hall, from which a 
 flight of stone steps led down to a cellar. 
 
 "Why, Betty, where are you going?" demanded 
 Chris, much surprised to see her descend these 
 stairs. 
 
 "Follow me and ask no questions until we are 
 out of hearing. No one knows about this but 
 Charles and me, and he said I could tell you. Do 
 be careful ! If the maids didn't happen to be all 
 out of the kitchen they would hear us." They 
 now had reached the cellar. "Isn't this a queer, 
 splendid cellar?" continued Betty. "My father 
 says there are no such cellars made nowadays, 
 and even he doesn't know the wonderful secret 
 there is about this one. Charles and I found it 
 out. You see this old place which looks like an 
 oven door, or a furnace door, built in this stone 
 place? Well, everybody but Charles and me 
 think it is a sort of closet where the people used 
 to keep things to keep them cold, but we found 
 out that it is really an opening leading to an un- 
 derground passage that leads to the lake. Isn't 
 it too wonderful, and just like some exciting 
 story? We think they had it made to escape 
 from Indians. Now I think it would be the great- 
 est fun to pretend that there are Indians up there 
 
 146
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 now. We have fled down here. The house party 
 are the Indians. Of course, we are not to know 
 that they are going to the lake themselves, but 
 we plan to escape to the lake and get away in our 
 old boat. We haven't heard them say that they 
 were going to get their canoes. We think they 
 are doing something else (killing people up- 
 stairs), and we must escape if we wish to save our 
 lives. Hurry! hurry! Crawl in after me, and 
 all will be well." 
 
 No sooner said than done. Betty's tones were 
 so thrilling, her manner so urgent, that it was not 
 difficult to imagine that there were Indians above 
 stairs in war-paint and feathers who were at that 
 moment engaged in wielding their tomahawks 
 and gathering scalps. 
 
 "Not one of the maids was there!" continued 
 Betty, still in the same tone of terror. "All are 
 dead or fled. I did not see mamma! And where 
 oh, where was my dear little sister Pauline ? Dead 
 or fled. My father and brother were out in the 
 barn, and were probably the first victims. They 
 died covered with wounds, fighting to save their 
 family. Oh, hurry! hurry!" 
 
 She had crawled through the opening while she 
 was speaking. It was only large enough to allow 
 them to enter on their hands and knees, but once 
 inside the children could stand upright. It was 
 dark and chilly, but the other end was in sight, for 
 
 147
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the tunnel had been made under the hill, which 
 was very steep at this place, and through the 
 bushes which grew beyond the opening there 
 entered rays of daylight and a glimpse of the 
 gleaming water of the lake. 
 
 Christopher followed her closely. 
 
 "Hark! I hear voices!" exclaimed Betty. 
 "They have come down the hill. We must keep 
 very quiet or they will discover us. We will go 
 close to the opening and listen to their plans. If 
 they don't find out that we are here they may go 
 off in some other direction." 
 
 They crouched down just inside the opening 
 and listened. The Indians, in the shape of Jo- 
 sephine Hale, Grace Fisher, Florence Hamilton, 
 and Jack Kendal, were standing within a few feet 
 of the children, but were, of course, quite uncon- 
 scious of their proximity. 
 
 "That boat isn't good for very much," said 
 Florence. Jack Kendal had stepped into it, and 
 with a sponge that was lying in it had begun to 
 bale it out. "Papa intends to get a new one, and 
 he has ordered one; but it hasn't come yet. 
 Charles says that it is all right if it hasn't too 
 heavy a load. There is a leak high up somewhere 
 that he hasn't been able to stop, but with just two 
 in it there is no danger of getting wet. Jack, why 
 don't you take Grace out while we are waiting 
 for the others? I am sure it is just the sort of 
 
 148
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 boat you will enjoy, captain of the 'varsity eight! 
 Yale would laugh to see you in that old tub!" 
 
 This was a bit cruel, for Harvard had just been 
 beaten at New London, but Florence had reasons 
 of her own for wishing to be severe with Jack. 
 For the same reasons she suggested that he should 
 take Grace out. He could not very well refuse, 
 and then when the other boys arrived with their 
 canoes it would be the most natural thing in the 
 world for Bromfield Hale to invite Florence to 
 go in his. She would have preferred a morning 
 with Jack, even in an old and leaking boat, but 
 she did not intend that he should guess this. He, 
 not very cordially it must be confessed, did as he 
 was bidden. Grace Fisher accepted with alacrity, 
 and although they were a long time getting off, 
 and Jack had many things to say before they did 
 go, he finally pulled off and headed for the middle 
 of the lake, and then rowed around the wooded 
 promontory that jutted out and which finally 
 hid them from sight. 
 
 "Now," whispered Betty to Chris, "Flo and Jo 
 are going to talk secrets. Remember that they 
 are Indians left behind to watch for us. If we 
 move, or let them know in any way that we are 
 here, we are all dead men. Be careful!" 
 
 "But we may hear their secrets," suggested 
 Chris. 
 
 "What if we do? They are Indians planning 
 149'
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 to scalp and massacre us. We have a right to 
 hear their secrets. Sh! Hark! Listen!" 
 
 The two Indians, quite ignorant of their dan- 
 gerous and blood-thirsty characters, seated them- 
 selves close to the opening on a flat rock that was 
 shaded from the July sun by a clump of trees. 
 
 "We shall probably have to wait ages for the 
 boys," said Florence. "I am glad I told the 
 maids to put up some luncheon for us. We shall 
 not get started until so late that it wouldn't be 
 worth while to go if we had to come back to 
 luncheon. I wonder how Jack is enjoying the 
 boat!" 
 
 "Or Grace! Flo, it was too bad you sent him 
 off with her. I have an idea that Jack doesn't 
 like Grace very much." 
 
 "Well, she likes him, so I have made her 
 happy." 
 
 There was silence for a few minutes. 
 
 "I wish they would say some more about that," 
 whispered Betty to Chris. "It's the most in- 
 teresting thing." 
 
 "I don't think it's fair for us to listen." 
 
 "Why, you goose, we have to! It's part of our 
 game. We are playing a game, and we have 
 made them Indians. If they are silly enough to 
 talk about their own affairs right out-of-doors 
 like that, we have a right to hear what they say." 
 
 All this was said in a loud whisper. 
 
 150
 
 "'THEY ARE INDIANS PLANNING TO SCALP AND MASSACRE us'"
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "What was that?" asked Josephine. 
 
 "What?" said Florence. "I didn't hear any- 
 thing." 
 
 Josephine laughed. "No; your thoughts are 
 far away around the promontory, I suppose. 
 I heard the queerest noise. A kind of a hissing 
 whisper!" 
 
 "Oh, Jo, was it a snake?" 
 
 "I don't believe so. I don't mind snakes, do 
 you? The boys had one in the house once had 
 it living up in their closet for days, and no one 
 knew it. No, this sounded like a person whis- 
 pering." 
 
 "The breeze in the trees, perhaps. Pauline 
 has been writing a poem about the whispering 
 trees." 
 
 "Pauline is a dear," said Josephine. "She re- 
 minds me something of my sister Georgiana, only 
 Georgie is not poetical. Betty is a case, isn't 
 she?" 
 
 At this Betty clutched Christopher's arm. 
 "Now they are going to talk about me!" she 
 whispered, very low, lest this time she might not 
 be mistaken for trees or snakes. 
 
 "Yes, she certainly is," said Betty's sister. "I 
 wonder where she is now. Up to something, I 
 suppose. She has Chris with her, though, so 
 perhaps he will keep her from doing anything 
 very dreadful." 
 
 151
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Well, I never!" muttered Betty. "The idea!" 
 
 " I certainly heard something then !" exclaimed 
 Josephine. They listened, but there was no 
 sound but the wood noises birds, insects, flut- 
 tering leaves, the fall of a dead branch, and the 
 gentle splashing of the waters of the lake. 
 
 "What ears you have, Jo!" 
 
 "Or imagination! It seems to be that more 
 than ears, as you hear nothing. What a dear 
 that lame boy is, Florence! Is he the one who 
 was found in a Home, or somewhere, by his 
 grandfather?" 
 
 "He was in a Home, but General Keith didn't 
 find him. It was Mr. Toppan, a farmer up here 
 in Maybury. It was only last summer, and Aunt 
 Edith and Betty were up here at the Toppans' 
 and heard all about it. Mrs. Toppan wanted to 
 have a crippled child there to take care of, and 
 Mr. Toppan brought this boy home, and they 
 got so fond of him they wanted to adopt him, 
 and then it was found out that he was really the 
 grandson of General Keith. Just think of Gen- 
 eral Keith with all that money millions and 
 millions they say he has allowing his grandson 
 to be in a Home!" 
 
 Christopher made a sudden movement. Betty 
 grasped his arm again. "Be careful !" she breath- 
 ed in his ear. "Don't let them know we are here! 
 They would be simply furious." 
 
 152
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "But I suppose he didn't know it," said Jose- 
 phine, "though it seems very queer he shouldn't 
 have. How did such a thing happen?" 
 
 "Well, you see, General Keith didn't like his 
 daughter's marriage. There was really nothing 
 against Mr. Lovel, my father says, except that he 
 was very poor, was of much plainer family than 
 the Keiths, and was not doing very well in busi- 
 ness. The Keiths opposed it violently, which 
 only made the daughter all the more determined 
 to marry him. I should just feel so, shouldn't 
 you, Jo?" 
 
 "I don't know," said her friend, slowly. "I 
 am not sure. I think I should think my father 
 or uncle knew better than I did." 
 
 "But if you loved him? Wouldn't you think 
 you ought to be true to him?" 
 
 "Yes, I should think that; but if they asked 
 me to wait a little while I should think I ought 
 to do that, because if we were very young they 
 would probably know best, and if if I cared 
 for him I should trust him enough to know we 
 wouldn't change our minds by waiting. Do you 
 suppose General Keith asked them to wait?" 
 
 "I don't think so. He was always a violent, 
 determined sort of man, papa says. He was so 
 furious that the daughter walked out of the house 
 and married Mr. Lovel. Afterward her mother 
 begged and begged the General to forgive her, 
 
 153
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 but he wouldn't. Mrs. Keith died of a broken 
 heart. Then the daughter died, and then her 
 husband, and they were terribly poor. The Gen- 
 eral never did anything for them, for they were 
 proud, too, and wouldn't ask, and I don't believe 
 he would have done it if they had asked, for he 
 wouldn't to please his wife. When they were 
 both dead he tried to find the boy, and couldn't. 
 Chris was living then with some horrible man 
 who sent him out into the streets to play his 
 violin. Then he met with the accident that made 
 him lame. Now his grandfather can't do enough 
 for him to make up for it all. They say the Gen- 
 eral is really a changed man. Oh, here are the 
 boys at last!" 
 
 Down the slope came her brother and Brom- 
 field Hale carrying a canoe. The girls' conver- 
 sation ceased, and before long they were all 
 out on the water. When they were out of sight 
 Betty and Christopher emerged from their hiding- 
 place. 
 
 "We're safe," said Betty. "The Indians have 
 gone. Why, Chris, what's the matter? How 
 queer you look! You didn't mind hearing that 
 story about yourself, did you? You knew it 
 already. Why, where are you going?" 
 
 "I'm going somewhere I don't know where." 
 
 "Oh, Chris, how mean! Why do you mind SO 
 much? I shouldn't if I were you." 
 
 154
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Shouldn't you ? But, you see, you never knew 
 my father." 
 
 "But where are you going?" 
 
 "Oh, somewhere I don't know just where. 
 Off for a drive somewhere." He walked to 
 the carriage-house and began to unfasten Sas- 
 safras. The little horse, weary of waiting, 
 tossed his head and began to back with great 
 agility. 
 
 "Why don't you take me for a drive?" asked 
 Betty. "Sassafras looks nice and frisky this 
 morning. I'd love to go to drive." 
 
 "All right," said Christopher, "jump in." 
 
 He was rather glad Betty had suggested it. It 
 would be something to do, something to prevent 
 his return to his grandfather quite yet. He did 
 not wish to see him until he had thought things 
 over. It seemed as though he had lived a life- 
 time since he left home that morning. Then he 
 was a child. Now he felt the responsibilities of 
 a man without a man's knowledge of how to 
 meet them. He had never heard the story of his 
 parents in just that way. He must decide what 
 to do. He wondered if Betty could help him to 
 decide. 
 
 They drove down the hill at a brisk pace, 
 Sassafras glad to be moving after his long fight 
 with flies in the Hamiltons' carriage-house. Betty 
 quite forgot to tell any one that she was going to 
 
 155
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 drive, and no one saw them start. It was still 
 early in the day, for the clocks were striking 
 eleven when they drove through the village 
 and turned into the road which led to South 
 Maybury.
 
 FOR some time the children were silent. 
 Betty, in spite of her heedlessness, her im- 
 pulsive frankness of speech, her occasional dis- 
 regard for the feelings of others, had a kind little 
 heart. She knew from the look on Christopher's 
 face, when they came out into the open from the 
 underground passage, that the words which he 
 had overheard had made a profound impression 
 upon him, and that impression had not yet passed 
 by. He still wore that strange look upon his face. 
 She glanced up at him as he sat beside her in the 
 runabout. He was on a high seat and he held 
 himself erect, handling the reins with the ease of 
 an experienced driver. He understood horses by 
 instinct, and it pleased his grandfather to believe 
 that he inherited the love of them from him. 
 
 "Sassafras is quite a handful, isn't he?" said 
 Betty, at last. "He shies at everything this 
 morning." 
 
 There was no answer from Chris. 
 
 "I wish we could have some kind of an ad- 
 venture, don't you?" 
 
 157
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Still there was no answer. Betty began to 
 think the silence had lasted long enough. 
 
 "Oh, Chris, do say something! What is the 
 matter, anyhow? I don't see why you are quite 
 so dreadfully cut up. You knew it all before." 
 
 "No, I didn't know he hadn't tried to find us. 
 I can't believe it now, Betty. I don't want to 
 believe it." 
 
 "Then why do you? Why don't you just say, 
 'It isn't true,' and not bother about it any more?" 
 
 "But suppose it is true? If it is true I want 
 to know it." 
 
 "I shouldn't, not if it is so disagreeable. When 
 a true thing isn't pleasant I would rather not 
 know it. What's the use? You can't do any- 
 thing about it now." 
 
 "Yes, I can. Only I don't know just what. 
 And I don't feel that way. I can't believe grand- 
 father was unkind to my father, and I am not 
 going to believe it until I know it was really so; 
 but if it was so I want to know it, because Oh, 
 Betty, I can't explain exactly, but I mean I 
 would rather know things just as they truly are, 
 and not think they are different from what they 
 are. I didn't use to feel so. Only last summer, 
 you know, I pretended I was Uncle Dan Top- 
 pan's real nephew, and made grandfather think I 
 was. Don't you remember?" 
 
 "Of course I do." 
 
 158
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Well, after that I never wanted to be anything 
 that wasn't true again." 
 
 "You don't have to be now. You are your 
 grandfather's true grandson." 
 
 "I know, but then I He paused. 
 
 "What were you going to say? I do hate to 
 have people stop just as they are going to say 
 the most interesting thing of all." 
 
 "I was just going to say that I'm father's son, 
 too, and if grandfather wasn't kind to father 
 Oh, I don't know! I'm all mixed up about it. 
 What would you do, Betty?" 
 
 "I wouldn't do anything, I tell you! I'd just 
 let things go. Chris, are you really going all the 
 way to South May bury?" 
 
 "Do you want to? We may as well. Sassa- 
 fras is going along so fast it won't take us long." 
 
 "Oh, do let's go! It will be fun when we get 
 there. I love to go to South Maybury and drive 
 up to the shops, and go skipping on and off the 
 car tracks. Do you suppose Sassafras will mind 
 the trolley-cars? Here comes an automobile. Oh, 
 Chris!" 
 
 She found it necessary to grasp the side of the 
 carriage and hold on tight. Sassafras was cer- 
 tainly in a gay mood that morning. Further con- 
 versation was impossible for some time, but at 
 last Christopher had brought him down to a trot ; 
 and as there was nothing more to disturb him 
 
 150
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 at present on the country road, he went quietly 
 enough, although he insisted upon passing every 
 vehicle that he saw ahead of him. 
 
 "This is the first time Sassafras has ever gone 
 to South Maybury," said Chris, "and it's the first 
 time I have ever driven him without grandfather 
 or Ben." 
 
 They were approaching the town now. The 
 houses along the road were closer together ; there 
 were one or two persons walking. Presently they 
 reached a corner where the car tracks turned into 
 the road they were on, and it became the main 
 street of the little town. Vehicles were more 
 numerous now, and here and there was a shop. 
 In a few minutes they were driving over a paved 
 street. 
 
 "What are we going to do now we are here?" 
 asked Christopher. 
 
 Betty did not reply at once. She was gazing 
 intently at the people on the street. There were 
 many more than she had ever before seen to- 
 gether in South Maybury. They were all mov- 
 ing in one direction. 
 
 "There is something going on," said she. 
 "Chris! It is! It is! See! Look at the crowds 
 waiting on that corner! It is coming along 
 there!" 
 
 "What is coming ? What do you mean, Betty ? 
 
 "Oh, you stupid! Don't you know? Why, 
 
 160
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the circus, of course. I had forgotten all about 
 it. Charles is crazy to come. You know, the 
 signs have been all over everywhere, but I thought 
 it was coming next week. We'll see the proces- 
 sion! Oh, won't Charles be wild when he hears 
 we've been here! Let's go to it, Chris! Have 
 you got any money? I haven't got a cent. How 
 much do you suppose it is? I do hope you have 
 some, for it would be perfectly maddening to be 
 right here at the very doors of the circus and not 
 see it." 
 
 Christopher investigated his pockets, transfer- 
 ring the reins from one hand to another in order 
 to do so. He had just discovered fifty cents in 
 one pocket, and was in the act of drawing up a 
 quarter of a dollar from the depths of another, 
 when Sassafras took the opportunity to stand on 
 his hind legs. He objected to the close proximity 
 of a hurdy-gurdy which was grinding out the 
 strains of a gay march right under his nose. Of 
 course, any horse of proper spirit would stand on 
 his hind legs. For a few minutes circus money 
 was forgotten, while Sassafras's young master de- 
 voted himself to placing the horse on four legs 
 again. 
 
 "We shall have to put him somewhere," said 
 Chris. "He would cut up dreadfully if we had 
 him here when the procession comes along. Let's 
 take him to a stable. There is one in the next 
 
 161
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 street where they know grandfather. I have 
 been there with him, so I could have it charged, 
 and save all the money for the circus." 
 
 This seemed an excellent plan, so they turned 
 the corner and drove to the stable. It did not 
 take long to arrange for the care of Sassafras ; and 
 in a few minutes the children, on foot, had joined 
 the crowd in the street, which, with one accord, 
 was moving toward Market Street, along which 
 the procession was to come. Christopher had 
 collected his possessions, and found that they 
 amounted to the proud sum of one dollar and 
 thirty-nine cents: quite enough for both to enter 
 the gates at twenty-five cents each, and to admit 
 them to several side-shows and buy a sufficient 
 amount of pop-corn, peanuts, and, perhaps, lemon- 
 ade. Troubles and family differences, cares and 
 home duties all were forgotten. Who could pos- 
 sibly remember that there is any one else in the 
 world besides one's self and one's boon com- 
 panion when a circus is in progress? Certainly 
 neither Christopher nor Betty. And with eager 
 faces and light hearts they stood upon the high 
 steps of the town hall, which fronted on Market 
 Street, and from this point of vantage watched 
 that most fascinating of sights to him or her whose 
 heart has not grown old the circus parade. 
 
 It was only a little circus, comparatively speak- 
 ing. There was a mere handful of elephants (if 
 
 1G2
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 elephants may be counted by handfuls), half a 
 dozen cages with small "wild beasts," some love- 
 ly ladies on weary horses which had served their 
 term as teamsters, no doubt, and were round- 
 ing out an industrious existence clothed in gay 
 trappings and bearing the sylph-like forms of the 
 "Queen of Beauty" and the "Lady Geraldine." 
 There was a snake-charmer and a lion-tamer, 
 each with his chosen pet, and best of all, in the 
 eyes of the admiring public, there was the clown 
 in red -and -white stripes and a face of chalk. 
 Betty clutched Chris when the clown came in 
 sight. 
 
 "Charles would give his eyes to be here!" she 
 whispered. "He adores clowns." 
 
 It was the only thought that either of them 
 gave to the families at home. When the last 
 object of their admiration had been trundled by 
 it was the fat lady, drawn by six white horses 
 they hurried down the steps and followed the 
 procession. It was not far to the grounds, where 
 great white tents had received the parading treas- 
 ures; and Christopher having produced his half- 
 dollar, the two were admitted to the sacred 
 precincts. And from that moment time was for- 
 gotten, for there is no time to think of tune when 
 one is absolutely and entirely happy. And how 
 can one avoid being absolutely and entirely hap- 
 py when the smell of the sawdust has penetrated 
 
 163
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the nostrils, the sound of music is falling upon 
 the ears, the taste of peanuts is upon the tongue, 
 the sight of the funniest, the most versatile clown 
 who ever turned a somersault is rejoicing the 
 eyes, and one is accompanied by the most con- 
 genial of companions who echoes one's dearest 
 wish almost before it has been expressed? 
 
 The " Fat Lady " had been called upon, the 
 moving pictures representing "A Lost Child" 
 had been watched with breathless attention, the 
 "Thin Gentleman Whose Only Food is Tacks" 
 had been closely scanned with audible doubts as 
 to the genuineness of his nourishment, the "Trav- 
 eller from the Antipodes with His Linguistic 
 Chimpanzee" had been questioned as to his 
 travels, and the children had paused to count 
 their money in order to find out how many more 
 pleasures were still at their command, when Betty, 
 watching the crowd while Chris did the counting, 
 gave a sudden and delighted exclamation. 
 
 "Why, Chris," she cried, in a high, piercing 
 voice, "if there isn't somebody we know! It is 
 George Smith! How did he ever get here? 
 Hollo, George!" She raised her voice still high- 
 er, for George was separated from them by a 
 number of persons and appeared to be slightly 
 deaf. Betty had no idea, however, of allowing 
 him to escape; in fact, it did not occur either 
 to her or to Chris that he was not eager to be 
 
 164
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 recognized. They elbowed their way through 
 the crowd, and reached his side just as he was 
 about to enter the tent of "Fascinating Fer- 
 nando Who Refuses to be Fastened." 
 
 "Hollo, George!" they both exclaimed together, 
 and there was nothing for George to do but re- 
 turn their friendly greeting. 
 
 "When did you come?" asked Chris. "Are 
 you staying at May bury?" 
 
 "I'm going over there soon," said George. 
 "You needn't let on you seen me. I'm here 
 looking for a job." 
 
 "Have you given up being a railroad man?" 
 asked Chris. 
 
 "Well, I'm thinking of giving it up. It don't 
 pay very well. I was only on for a time, anyhow. 
 I was doin' it for another feller, and he's back. 
 He was sick at the hospital got his foot hurt fall- 
 in' off a train. When he got well he come back 
 and took his job again. I'm goin' home for a lit- 
 tle while, but I just stopped over here to see 
 the circus. I say, have you seen all the shows? 
 It's an awful smart feller in here, they say. He 
 can untie any knot you put on to him, and hand- 
 cuffs and chains and everything. He slips right 
 out of 'em as slick as anything. He's a regular 
 Houdini. Come along in!" 
 
 So the three entered the tent of the " Fascinat- 
 ing Fernando." 
 
 165
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 There was no doubt about his fascination. His 
 charm was increased by the fact that the by- 
 standers could help to tie him up; indeed, their 
 efforts were part of the performance. Each one 
 lent a hand and gave an extra twist to the rope 
 which was used to bind him, and both Chris and 
 Betty assisted in the process. So wonderful were 
 his antics, his writhings, his suppleness, that for 
 a time they forgot to look at his face. When 
 Betty did glance at it she looked again. He had 
 very long and thick flaxen hair, which to the 
 more sophisticated would have suggested a wig. 
 His color was so high and so steady that there 
 was no doubt in Betty's mind of its being sup- 
 plied artificially, and he wore a magnificent 
 blond mustache which neatly matched his hair. 
 She had never seen such hair before, but his eyes 
 and his ears were strangely familiar to her. Where 
 had she met, or tried to meet, those restless, shifty 
 eyes, and where had she seen those enormous ears 
 which stuck out so far from the head? She stood 
 staring at him, forgetting to watch his actions, 
 and with so steady a gaze that she attracted his 
 glance in return. In an instant the " Fascinating 
 Fernando" wheeled about and presented a new 
 variety of performance. In a high falsetto voice 
 he requested the audience to tie his hands behind 
 him and to fasten one foot to his hands. This 
 was done by George Smith, who had proved to be 
 
 166
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 particularly clever at the work of tying. The 
 " Fascinating Fernando " wriggled out of the 
 knots, and then with a low bow disappeared be- 
 hind a curtain. 
 
 "Oh, it's over !" sighed Chris. " I liked it about 
 as well as anything. I suppose it's dinner-time 
 and he's gone behind there to get some. I'm 
 awfully hungry, aren't you, Betty? I forgot all 
 about dinner. I suppose we ought to be going 
 back to Maybury Centre." 
 
 They were standing close to the curtain behind 
 which the " Fascinator " had vanished. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" exclaimed Betty. "Well, I sup- 
 pose we ought. General Keith won't like it if 
 you are very late, Chris. Are you going over 
 there to-day, George?" 
 
 "Not to-day. I'm lookin' for a job here. And 
 mind you, don't let on you seen me." 
 
 They moved slowly away. They did not look 
 back, and so they were not aware of being 
 watched. The " Fascinating Fernando " came 
 out from behind his curtain, at first cautiously, 
 and then with more boldness. He saw the part- 
 ing at his tent door. George Smith walked away 
 in one direction, Chris and Betty moved quickly 
 toward an exit gate. The " Fascinator" followed 
 Smith. He overtook him as he reached another 
 side-show and engaged him in conversation, pres- 
 ently inviting him to see the show at his, the 
 
 167
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 " Fascinator's," expense. It was a pleasant sur- 
 prise to George to receive such an invitation, and 
 he did not hesitate an instant in accepting it. 
 
 Betty and Chris, with slow and lingering foot- 
 steps, moved away from the great white tents 
 which covered so much that was wonderful. 
 They walked to the stable, and presently they 
 were driving homeward at a brisk pace, very 
 hungry, very tired, and with time now to wonder 
 how their absence would be regarded by the 
 authorities. When they drove up the steep 
 ascent of Pringle Farm they found General Keith 
 awaiting them upon the piazza. He assisted 
 Betty to alight with the utmost politeness. He 
 bade Mrs. Hamilton good-bye in the same stately 
 manner, and stepped into the runabout. Chris- 
 topher drove away without a word, but he glanced 
 at Betty. Mrs. Hamilton had taken her hand 
 and was leading her into the house. She looked 
 very solemn, and so did Betty. It was some 
 time before General Keith spoke. When he did 
 it was with a constrained voice. 
 
 "I did not expect to see you alive," said he. 
 "Will you kindly give an account of yourself? 
 As I expected, Miss Betty was with you. I find 
 it difficult to forgive her." 
 
 "It wasn't Betty's fault. I asked her to go. 
 There was no harm in our going. I'm twelve 
 years old." 
 
 168
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 The General turned and looked at him. In his 
 astonishment he forgot to be angry. At last he 
 found his voice. 
 
 "You may be twelve years old, but you are 
 still my grandson. I expect you to go nowhere 
 without my permission. Where have you been?" 
 
 "To the circus." There was a moment's si- 
 lence. The joys of the morning had not yet lost 
 their charm. The troubles of the morning had 
 not yet reasserted themselves. "It was splendid! 
 Oh, grand, don't you love the circus? Even if 
 you don't now, didn't you when you were only 
 twelve?" 
 
 "I think perhaps I did. I I hardly remem- 
 ber. Tell me all about it, Christopher." 
 
 And he forgot for the time his displeasure, and 
 Christopher his cares. It was not until they were 
 at home again, and the delayed luncheon had been 
 eaten and Christopher was alone, while his grand- 
 father took his afternoon nap, that he began again 
 to think over all that he had heard that morning 
 when he and Betty were hidden in the under- 
 ground passage.
 
 XI 
 
 ONE afternoon a few days later than that 
 upon which Betty and Christopher played 
 Indians and went to the circus, Rachel Amy Mar- 
 tin walked up to Pringle Farm. Her mother had 
 sent her upon an errand which was to her of the 
 greatest importance, and Rachel Amy had re- 
 ceived careful directions as to the manner of 
 doing it. 
 
 "Ring the door-bell no matter who you see out- 
 side, and give the envelope to the person who 
 opens the door," said Mrs. Martin. "Don't you 
 think you can get out of it by givin' it to any of 
 the young folks. They'll only lose it before Mrs. 
 Hamilton hears a word about it. If I give a four- 
 o'clock I want that the invites should get to the 
 right folks. Some I'll send by mail, like the one 
 to Mrs. Davis over to West Newbury, and some 
 others like that. The Toppans have got to be 
 asked, I suppose, though I hate to do it real bad, 
 seein' they're so thick with that Miss Lucetta 
 Smith ; but the Toppans have got a kind o' posi- 
 tion here, and I don't feel as though I'd better 
 
 170
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 leave 'em out. I'll send the invite to them by 
 Mr. Tarleton. You can leave these others on 
 your way to Pringle Farm, Rachel Amy, and mind 
 you do it right and don't be makin' any mistakes." 
 
 So Rachel Amy departed with a number of 
 notes which by the time she reached Pringle 
 Farm had all been disposed of at various houses 
 along the way, with the exception of the one ad- 
 dressed in her mother's stiff, cramped handwrit- 
 ing to "Mrs. Hamilton and family." It con- 
 tained a card upon which was her mother's name, 
 "Mrs. Eliza Martin," done in South Maybury by 
 a professional, with heavy shadings on the down- 
 ward slope of the letters in true Spencerian style. 
 At the lower left-hand corner was written, "Four- 
 o'clock," in quotation marks, and beneath that 
 the date, and "R. S. V. P." These cards of invita- 
 tion had cost Mrs. Martin much time and thought, 
 and were the result of detailed consultation with 
 the man in South Maybury who wrote what he 
 designated as "calling cards," and of prolonged 
 study of the columns of certain magazines which 
 impart advice about social affairs. 
 
 Obeying her mother's instructions, Rachel Amy 
 marched straight to the front door, although 
 Pauline and Betty were near at hand under the 
 trees, and Florence and her friends were on the 
 piazza. She rang the bell, apparently uncon- 
 scious of the fact that Pauline was approaching. 
 
 171
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Hollo, Rachel," said Pauline, who, having 
 discovered that it was a trial to Rachel Amy to 
 bear two names, had immediately begun to call 
 her by but one, "I'm glad to see you. Have you 
 a note for mamma?" 
 
 "Yes," said the girl. "No, don't take it, 
 Pauline. I've got to give it to the hired help. 
 Mother said on no account to give it to any of 
 you girls. It's an invitation to a four-o'clock, 
 and I've got to be very particular." 
 
 "I'm afraid you will wait there until night, 
 then," said Pauline, laughing good-naturedly. 
 "The maids have all been allowed to go off on a 
 picnic, and they won't get home till supper-time. 
 Unless you insist upon mamma's coming down 
 to take it herself, I'm afraid you'll have to give 
 it to me. I will take it right up to her so you 
 will know it is all safe." 
 
 "Perhaps she could give me an answer to 
 take back, and then mother 'd be satisfied," said 
 Rachel Amy. "Mother says she knows it isn't 
 customary to put R. S. V. P. on four-o'clock cards 
 that means ' answer if you please ' though I 
 can't see why, for the letters don't stand for those 
 words; but she's got to know how many is com- 
 ing on account of the maple syrup. There, I 
 wasn't to mention maple syrup, so please don't 
 say anything about it, Pauline." 
 
 "No, I won't. Just go sit down under the 
 
 172
 
 trees with Betty, and I'll come back again as 
 soon as I can." 
 
 But Betty had disappeared, so Rachel Amy 
 waited there alone until Pauline returned. She 
 could not help looking shyly now and then at the 
 girls and young men on the porch. They seemed 
 to be having such a good time, to judge by the 
 amount of laughing and talking that they were 
 doing. Everything that was said appeared to be 
 of the most amusing nature. Rachel Amy's life 
 thus far had not known much laughter. She was 
 of a serious temperament, but she was young. 
 She would have liked "a good time," too. But 
 how could a girl have that who lived in a house 
 that was literally as well as metaphorically "di- 
 vided against itself"? She did not put this ques- 
 tion into precisely those words as she sat watch- 
 ing the others, half in interest, half in envy, but 
 she thought of her mother's peculiar disposition, 
 and of her dear aunt Lucetta on the other side of 
 the wire netting. She would have been glad, too, 
 to be friends with her cousins the Smiths. They 
 might all have been young together. Rachel Amy 
 longed for somebody in the house who was young. 
 But now she had a friend of her own age in Pau- 
 line. Chris was her friend, too, to be sure, but 
 he was younger and only a boy. She turned and 
 smiled happily at Pauline as she came to her over 
 the grass. 
 
 173
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Here is the answer," Pauline called out. 
 "Mamma and two of us will be very glad to come." 
 
 "Only two of you? Dear me, I'm afraid mother 
 won't like it unless you all come." 
 
 "Why, it would make a great many! Papa 
 and my brothers are so busy doing things when 
 they are up here that mamma thought it better 
 to decline for them. Papa is not here now, and 
 he may not be back in tune for it, and Florence 
 is going away to make some visits, so there would 
 not be anybody but Betty and me to go with 
 mamma, anyway." 
 
 "All right, I'll tell mother that, and then she'll 
 feel better satisfied. Pauline, I just love that 
 book you lent me. It's splendid. I haven't quite 
 finished it, so I couldn't bring it back to-day." 
 
 "Oh, there's no hurry about bringing it back. 
 How far have you gone?" 
 
 They fell into an animated discussion of the 
 book and of other things of equal interest to them 
 both. The afternoon passed rapidly away. The 
 shadows lengthened on the grass. The young 
 people left the piazza and went off for a drive, 
 the boys harnessing the horses themselves, as the 
 stable-men had gone to the picnic. Betty had 
 vanished on some private enterprise of her own, 
 and no one interrupted the two girls under the 
 trees. 
 
 It was nearly six o'clock when a little girl came 
 
 174
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 hurriedly up the hill. She had evidently been 
 running, for her face was flushed and she breathed 
 quickly. She came straight to the bench where 
 Pauline and Rachel Amy were sitting. Betty 
 and Brownie came out of the house as she ap- 
 proached, and reached the bench at the same 
 time that she did. "Hollo, Lucy!" said Betty. 
 "Come along with me. We'll go out to the 
 barn." 
 
 It was Lucy Smith, and Betty thought this a 
 most tactful way of separating the two cousins, 
 who were not allowed to be on speaking terms. 
 
 Lucy scarcely heeded her. She had lost her 
 quiet little manner, her demure way of walking 
 and speaking. She called out, excitedly, to her 
 cousin: 
 
 "Rachel Amy, you'd better come right home! 
 Aunt Lucetta sent me to tell you. Your mother's 
 sick at least she was groaning, and we thought 
 she was sick." 
 
 Rachel Amy started to her feet. "Has Aunt 
 Lucetta gone in there?" 
 
 "Yes, she went in, and your mother was real 
 nice to her I guess she thought maybe she was 
 going to die. Aunt Lucetta says she's better 
 now, but she thought you ought to come home. 
 We knew you was here with the invitations for 
 the four-o'clock. We heard your mother telling 
 you." 
 
 ia 175
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "I oughtn't to have stayed so long!" exclaimed 
 her cousin. "Oh, if mother has only made up 
 with Aunt Lucetta!" And she ran down the hill 
 without stopping to say good-bye. 
 
 "Do you think she really has?" asked Betty. 
 
 "I don't know/- replied Lucy, calmly. "We 
 think she's going to get married, and she wants 
 to leave Rachel Amy with us. She told Aunt 
 Lucetta to-day she might buy her half of the 
 house. She'd like to sell her share to Aunt 
 Lucetta, and she said something about leaving 
 Rachel Amy here if she went to live somewhere 
 else. And we heard Mr. Tarleton talking in there, 
 and saying he was going into business over to 
 Kingford. We hear most everything through 
 the wire netting. To-day we heard her groaning. 
 We thought it was just her way, but the groans 
 got so awful that Aunt Lucetta got scared. She 
 just couldn't stand it, she was so afraid Mrs. 
 Martin might be real sick, after all, this time. 
 You know Mrs. Martin is my aunt Lucetta's 
 sister, so of course she feels worried when she 
 thinks she's real sick." 
 
 "I shouldn't be," said Betty. "I should just 
 hate her, and be glad to hear her groaning." 
 
 ' ' Why, Betty !' ' remonstrated Pauline. ' ' She's 
 her own sister!" 
 
 "I don't care if she is. She's a hateful person, 
 and deserves to groan. If you behaved like that, 
 
 176
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Paul, I should hate you." Then suddenly Betty 
 began to laugh. 
 
 "Betty, how can you laugh like that?" asked 
 Pauline, gravely. She would not for the world 
 hurt Lucy's feelings, and the conversation had 
 become very personal. 
 
 "I can't help it. Only think how funny it 
 would be," said Betty, as soon as she could speak, 
 "for you and me to live with a wire netting be- 
 tween us! Suppose we had one in our house, and 
 half the family lived on one side and half on the 
 other! We're an uneven number of children, 
 so one of us would have to take turns. I speak 
 to be the one. It would give me such a nice 
 change of relations." 
 
 "Betty, you're too bad!" said Pauline, trying 
 not to laugh on Lucy's account. But Lucy was 
 not offended. 
 
 "I don't mind," said she. "It's all Mrs. Mar- 
 tin's doings, and we think she's crazy Aunt 
 Lucetta and I do. Aunt Lucetta minds it, and 
 wishes she could be friends again and all live to- 
 gether, but I don't. Mrs. Martin wasn't nice to 
 us and neither was Rachel Amy. I'm glad there 
 is a wire netting." 
 
 "I should think you would be. Don't you 
 think Rachel Amy is rather stuck-up?" It was 
 Betty who asked this question. 
 
 "I don't think she is," said Pauline, "and I've 
 
 177
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 gotten to know her quite well. Maybe she used 
 to be, but I think now she's different." 
 
 "She's always been very stuck-up with me," 
 said Lucy. 
 
 "There!" exclaimed Betty. 
 
 "Well, you see if I am not right," said Pauline. 
 "I think she has been with you, Lucy, because 
 her mother makes her, and with Betty because 
 Betty has never liked her, and people always 
 know when other people don't like them; but I 
 think Rachel Amy down underneath isn't one bit 
 proud or stuck-up, and you will both find it out 
 some day and like her." 
 
 "Oh, that's just like you, Paul," said her 
 sister. "You always take the side of the down- 
 trodden, and stand up for unpopular people. It's 
 just the way it always is in school, Lucy. If 
 Pauline thinks a girl is neglected or isn't liked, 
 and the other girls don't notice her enough, Paul 
 always goes and gets intimate with her and helps 
 her out of her troubles." 
 
 " I should think everybody would love Pauline," 
 said Lucy. 
 
 "They do!" cried Betty, throwing her arms 
 around her sister's neck and kissing her. "She's 
 a darling, dear." 
 
 "Betty, you goose!" said Pauline. "You ex- 
 aggerate awfully. Don't believe her, Lucy." 
 
 "I do believe her," said Lucy, standing directly 
 
 178
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 in front of the sisters. " I almost wish you were 
 my friend instead of Rachel Amy's, but that's a 
 mean wish, because I have Aunt Lucetta and my 
 brother George, but Rachel Amy only has her 
 mother." 
 
 "I can be friends with you both," said Pauline. 
 
 "No, you couldn't be that. You see, we are 
 not allowed to share things. Even though we 
 own the same aunt we're not allowed to share her. 
 Of course, we couldn't have the same friend." 
 
 "I think it is perfectly outrageous!" exclaimed 
 Betty. "That horrid wire netting comes poking 
 in between you and everything; but I'm glad 
 you've got that nice Miss Lucetta on your side 
 of it, Lucy." 
 
 The house with the wire netting was not the 
 only house in Maybury Centre where trouble was 
 to be found. At Keith Hall the master was un- 
 happy, in spite of all the luxury and beauty with 
 which he was surrounded, and in spite, too, of the 
 fact that he had with him the grandson whom he 
 loved so devotedly. It was owing to this grand- 
 son that General Keith was anxious. He did 
 not know what had come over the boy during 
 these last few days. Christopher had suddenly 
 become moody and silent. The childish face had 
 grown older. The look of sunny happiness had 
 left it. The boy seemed careworn. He did not 
 respond in any way to his grandfather, nor did 
 
 179
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 he make any affectionate demonstration to the old 
 man, as it was his real nature to do. He would 
 sit silently brooding over something for an hour 
 at a time. What it was the General could not 
 imagine. He decided, therefore, that the boy 
 was ill, and he anxiously requested the house- 
 keeper to feel his pulse, and he watched his ap- 
 petite with a close attention that was pathetic. 
 
 "I believe I will send for the doctor," said he, 
 suddenly, at dinner one night. "You are not 
 eating anything, Christopher, and you have al- 
 ways liked broiled chicken. This is your favorite 
 kind of ice-cream, too. You are ill. Have you 
 ever had measles? or chicken-pox? And what 
 are the other things children have? You are 
 going to have one of them, I have no doubt. We 
 will try and get the doctor here to-night. There 
 is a very good man at West May bury." 
 
 "I'm not sick. I don't need the doctor," said 
 Christopher. 
 
 "Then what is it?" asked the General, getting 
 up from the table and walking to and fro. " Some- 
 thing is the matter. Can you look me in the face 
 and say nothing is the matter?" He paused by 
 Christopher's chair, and placing his hand under 
 the boy's chin, he turned up the face and scanned 
 it eagerly, tenderly, with a long, searching look. 
 
 Christopher gazed back at him, the boy's blue 
 eyes staring unflinchingly into those of the man. 
 
 180
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 The General's eyes had once been dark and bright 
 and keen as an eagle's. They were keen now, 
 but they were faded. He was growing old. 
 
 " What is the matter, boy ? Can't you tell me. " 
 
 "No, grandfather, I don't believe I can." 
 
 "There is something on your mind, isn't there? 
 You are worried about something." 
 
 "Yes, grandfather." 
 
 "Well, what is it?" He was walking up and 
 down again now. "Can't you tell me? Is it 
 money? Do you want some more money?" 
 
 "Oh no!" 
 
 "Is it is it the matter we were speaking of 
 the other day? I mean the name. Can it be 
 you are troubled about that?" 
 
 no, grandfather. That doesn't trouble 
 ~^e I am not going to change my 
 
 a not, eh? Decided the matter for 
 ve you? And since when were you 
 naster? I tell you, sir, if I say you 
 *nge it, you shall change it! You are 
 and I am your legal guardian. I can 
 ju change it!" The General had unmis- 
 1H / lost his temper. 
 
 Chiistopher said nothing. In a moment Gen- 
 eral Keith paused again in his walk. He stood 
 by the table and rested his hands on it while he 
 leaned over and looked at the boy. 
 
 181
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 he make any affectionate demonstration to the old 
 man, as it was his real nature to do. He would 
 sit silently brooding over something for an hour 
 at a time. What it was the General could not 
 imagine. He decided, therefore, that the boy 
 was ill, and he anxiously requested the house- 
 keeper to feel his pulse, and he watched his ap- 
 petite with a close attention that was pathetic. 
 
 "I believe I will send for the doctor," said he, 
 suddenly, at dinner one night. "You are not 
 eating anything, Christopher, and you have al- 
 ways liked broiled chicken. This is your favorite 
 kind of ice-cream, too. You are ill. Have you 
 ever had measles? or chicken-pox? And what 
 are the other things children have? You are 
 going to have one of them, I have no doubt. We 
 will try and get the doctor here to-night. Tb' 
 is a very good man at West May bury." 
 
 "I'm not sick. I don't need the doc f 
 Christopher. 
 
 "Then what is it?" asked theGe 
 up from the table and walking to and L 
 thing is the matter. Can you look me IL 
 and say nothing is the matter?" He pau 
 Christopher's chair, and placing his hand u 
 the boy's chin, he turned up the face and scam. 
 it eagerly, tenderly, with a long, searching look. 
 
 Christopher gazed back at him, the boy's blue 
 eyes staring unflinchingly into those of the man. 
 
 180
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 The General's eyes had once been dark and bright 
 and keen as an eagle's. They were keen now, 
 but they were faded. He was growing old. 
 
 "What is the matter, boy ? Can't you tell me." 
 
 "No, grandfather, I don't believe I can." 
 
 "There is something on your mind, isn't there? 
 You are worried about something." 
 
 "Yes, grandfather." 
 
 "Well, what is it?" He was walking up and 
 down again now. "Can't you tell me? Is it 
 money? Do you want some more money?" 
 
 "Oh no!" 
 
 "Is it is it the matter we were speaking of 
 the other day? I mean the name. Can it be 
 that you are troubled about that?" 
 
 "Oh no, grandfather. That doesn't trouble 
 me. Of course I am not going to change my 
 name." 
 
 "Oh, you're not, eh? Decided the matter for 
 yourself, have you? And since when were you 
 your own master? I tell you, sir, if I say you 
 are to change it, you shall change it! You are 
 a minor, and I am your legal guardian. I can 
 make you change it!" The General had unmis- 
 takably lost his temper. 
 
 Christopher said nothing. In a moment Gen- 
 eral Keith paused again in his walk. He stood 
 by the table and rested his hands on it while he 
 leaned over and looked at the boy. 
 
 181
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "I dislike very much to go into these details, 
 Christopher, or to point out to any one the bene- 
 fits I have conferred; most of all do I dislike to 
 enter into such details with my grandson. But 
 you seem to have forgotten the respect that is 
 due me. Do you realize, sir, that you would be 
 penniless except for me? that you were a home- 
 less orphan? a a " He was about to say a 
 cripple, but he stopped in time. The boy's lame- 
 ness was one of his grandfather's heaviest trials. 
 "To be sure, the Toppans were ready to adopt 
 you, but what would that have been compared 
 to the home and the care that I have given 
 you?" 
 
 "I know all that, grandfather," said Christo- 
 pher, speaking at last, " but I can't help it. I 
 am very much obliged to you, but I can't change 
 my name. Father wouldn't like it." 
 
 "Then don't change it!" shouted General Keith. 
 "And go to your room at once, sir. I don't wish 
 to see you again to-night." 
 
 Christopher obeyed him. The General watched 
 him as he left the dining-room. His limp was 
 scarcely perceptible, but it was there. The boy 
 paused a moment in the hall and looked back, 
 and as he did so, by a sudden impulse, the old 
 man opened wide his arms. In a moment the 
 boy was in them. 
 
 "What is it, child?" asked the grandfather. 
 
 182
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "What is troubling you? Can't you tell your 
 old grand?" 
 
 "I can't. You wouldn't like it," whispered 
 Chris, who was crying "you wouldn't like it." 
 And he would say nothing more. 
 
 After awhile he went to bed, and General 
 Keith, sitting by his library table, pretended to 
 read. What could have happened to the boy? 
 He thought of going to consult somebody, but 
 his pride forbade it. Mrs. Toppan might help 
 him, or Mrs. Hamilton. On the whole, Mrs. 
 Hamilton would be the better person, for Mrs. 
 Toppan must not know that Christopher was not 
 happy. She had wished to adopt him for her 
 own. It would not do to let her be aware of the 
 fact that life with his grandfather was not a com- 
 plete success. Indeed, it would be quite out of 
 the question to impart such a secret to any one. 
 No; the General had never been in the habit of 
 consulting others about his affairs; he would not 
 begin now. Probably it was just some fancy of 
 Christopher's which he would get over. All chil- 
 dren had fancies of some kind, presumably. This 
 matter of the name, now. It was an idea of the' 
 boy's that he could not give up his father's name. 
 No doubt he had an exaggerated sense of the 
 duty that he thought he owed to the memory of 
 his dead father. It would be best to let matters 
 "lest awhile to say nothing, and to fill his mind 
 
 183
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 with other things; in short, to direct his atten- 
 tion from all serious affairs, and then, later, to 
 bring up the subject again. For the General had 
 no intention of yielding; he had never yielded. 
 Why should he begin now? Of course, his grand- 
 son should be made to do as he thought best, and 
 of course it was best that the Keith name should 
 inherit the Keith money. But all in good time 
 all in good time. 
 
 And having decided thus, he tiptoed up to see 
 if Christopher was awake, and finding that he 
 was, he kissed him and told him not to worry 
 about things. And Christopher, who had also 
 been thinking things over, and who loved the old 
 man as truly as he himself was loved, patted his 
 hand and promised not to worry. He honestly 
 tried to forget the story he had overheard, and 
 which had been the cause of his changed attitude 
 toward his grandfather, but that was a most diffi- 
 cult task. He had brooded over it so much that 
 by this time it had attained overwhelming pro- 
 portions. It seemed to him that his grandfather 
 must be a very cruel man, and yet he could not 
 reconcile this view of him with the one which he 
 already knew. It was all very puzzling. But 
 he wanted to love him, and now that the General 
 had come to him so tenderly, he could not believe 
 him to be cruel. No, there was some mistake 
 somewhere. And still holding his grandfather's 
 184
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 hand while the old man sat beside his bed, the 
 boy fell asleep. 
 
 It was a long, long time before the General 
 moved. It seemed so wonderful a thing to hold 
 the relaxed, childish fingers within his own. 
 
 "And he is mine!" thought he. "My own 
 grandson my daughter's son my boy!"
 
 xn 
 
 THE afternoon appointed for Mrs. Martin's 
 four -o'clock proved to be one of the hot- 
 test of the season. For many days the sun had 
 been shining from a cloudless sky, and the 
 earth was so baked with its rays that even at 
 night there was but little relief. There had been 
 no rain for weeks, and the farmers were growing 
 anxious; every morning and every evening they 
 searched the horizon and peered at the direction 
 of the wind, hoping for signs of change, after the 
 manner of those whose livelihood depends upon 
 so uncertain a factor as the weather. Mrs. Mar- 
 tin had been saying for a week that it would be 
 "just her luck to have the drought break up the 
 day she most wished to have pleasant; she never 
 did want rain but what it was clear, nor want it 
 clear but what it rained." But this time her 
 gloomy predictions did not come true, and she, 
 not the farmers, was destined to be gratified. 
 
 Since early dawn she and her daughter had 
 been busy, and when at half-past three they seated 
 themselves in the best parlor, to await with what 
 
 186
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 patience they could muster the arrival of their 
 guests at four o'clock, they were so tired that 
 Mrs. Martin did not hesitate to declare that she 
 would never give a four - o'clock again as long 
 as she lived. Rachel Amy's new dress, made for 
 the occasion in South Maybury, was thick and 
 scratchy, and so tight in the collar that she felt 
 as though she were being strangled, and her new 
 shoes gave forth so alarming a creak that it em- 
 barrassed her to take a step. The creaking shoes 
 not only seemed to make the day hotter, but they 
 hurt. Mrs. Martin, in a thick green, silk which 
 accentuated the sallowness of her complexion, 
 felt that the consciousness of being well dressed 
 atoned somewhat for the arduous preparations. 
 "I'm glad I got green, for it's altogether worn," 
 she said to her daughter, as she rocked to and fro 
 and farmed herself. "I noticed Florence Hamil- 
 ton had on a green last Sabbath in church. Hers 
 was only a muslin, and couldn't have cost more'n 
 a quarter of a dollar a yard, if that. It does beat 
 all the cheap clothes those rich folks wear. I 
 suppose they think anything is good enough for 
 up here in the country, and that's the very rea- 
 son I bought me and I bought you a new dress, 
 Rachel Amy. I set my heart on provin' to 'em 
 that I know what's what. My, ain't it hot! 
 Are you sure you set all the saucers right, and 
 that the maple syrup's on, Rachel Amy? There, 
 
 187
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 I never once thought of havin' the melodeon 
 standin' open, with a piece of music on it, so as 
 to look as if one of us played regular. You fix 
 it now, Rachel Amy." 
 
 Her daughter creaked over to the melodeon, 
 arranged it as she was directed, and creaked back 
 again to her place. 
 
 "I do hope they'll all come punctual," con- 
 tinued Mrs. Martin. " If there's anything I can't 
 abide it's havin' to wait. What time is it now, 
 Rachel Amy?" 
 
 Rachel Amy creaked into the next room and 
 reported the hour as twenty minutes of four. 
 
 " Twenty minutes yet! Dear me, those shoes 
 of yours make an awful sight of noise ! If there's 
 anything I do hate it's hearin' creakin' shoes on 
 a hot day, or any day, as to that. It seems as 
 if it was just my luck that you happened 'on such 
 shoes, child. It gives me a headache to have 
 you move. You'll have to keep as quiet as you 
 can. It's real unfortunate for me, though, with 
 no one else to depend upon. It does seem to me 
 as if there was no one had things go wrong the 
 way I do. And such a hot day as this is, and I 
 one who feels the heat so ! I don't believe there's 
 a person who feels heat as much as I do, and yet 
 I'm so thin. If I was fleshy there'd be some rea- 
 son for it. It just wilts me right down. You're 
 pretty lucky, Rachel Amy, that you don't take 
 
 188
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 after me in feelin' the heat. Go tell your aunt 
 Lucetta and Lucy to come in now. Won't it be 
 a surprise to all the folks to find the wire netting's 
 down, and that we're friends again ! I always was 
 of a most forgivin' nature." 
 
 Rachel Amy did as she was bidden, and pres- 
 ently Miss Lucetta and Lucy were established in 
 Mrs. Martin's parlor. Intercourse between the 
 two branches of the family was still somewhat 
 strained, but the netting had been taken away 
 and business arrangements had been talked over. 
 Miss Lucetta and Rachel Amy felt very happy 
 about it, but to George and Lucy it was a different 
 matter. They had no reason for loving their 
 aunt Eliza. George had arrived at Maybury 
 Centre that morning, but upon finding the net- 
 ting gone he had left the house again and had 
 passed the greater part of the day in the woods. 
 
 "You look as cool as anything, Lucetta. It's 
 real aggravatin' to see you, and me feelin' the 
 heat so much," said Mrs. Martin. 
 
 But before her sister had time to reply to this 
 amiable greeting the first guest was seen coming 
 up the path. It was Mrs. Davis, of West May- 
 bury, a very great lady indeed, and her presence 
 at the feast, as well as her punctual arrival, 
 caused Mrs. Martin to forget, for a time at least, 
 the perversity of human affairs. Most of the 
 guests were prompt, and by twenty minutes past 
 
 189
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 four they were all there with the exception of the 
 Hamiltons. The news of the reconciliation had 
 already spread, and Miss Lucetta was greeted 
 with marked cordiality. Mrs. Martin cast many 
 an anxious glance toward the front door as she 
 stood by the mantel-piece and conversed with her 
 friends. She intended that they should be seated 
 later, but until all had assembled they should 
 remain standing. Where were the Hamiltons? 
 It would be just her luck if something had hap- 
 pened to prevent them from coming, but in that 
 case they certainly should have sent word. It 
 was difficult to talk with this possibility in her 
 mind, but at last a stir in the room and the turn- 
 ing of several heads toward the windows gave 
 indication of an arrival of some sort, and present- 
 ly Mrs. Hamilton came in accompanied by her 
 three daughters. 
 
 "I'm real pleased you've come at last," said 
 Mrs. Martin, shaking hands with, each in turn, 
 and then introducing them to the other guests. 
 "I didn't know as you'd ever get here." 
 
 "We were delayed just as we were starting," 
 said Mrs. Hamilton. "Something was wrong 
 with the harness. You see, I have my eldest 
 daughter with me after all, Mrs. Martin. She is 
 not going away until to-morrow, so I took the 
 liberty of bringing her." 
 
 "Well, I'm pleased to see her," said Mrs. Mar- 
 
 190
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 tin, "as long as we're not sittin' at table with 
 regular set places. I did invite a lady to take her 
 place when I heard she couldn't come, but I 
 presume it won't be too crowded. Now, if you'll 
 all be seated She pointed to the sofa and 
 chairs which had been arranged with their backs 
 to the four walls of the room. All sat down, and 
 for a moment there was profound silence. It was 
 broken by Betty. 
 
 "Are we going to play games?" she asked. 
 Her voice was loud and clear. She was intensely 
 interested in the proceedings. 
 
 "No, we're not," replied her hostess. 
 
 "Oh!" said Betty, with unmistakable disap- 
 pointment. "Then what are we going to do?" 
 
 Florence, who was sitting next to her, touched 
 her foot gently with her own. " Do hush, Betty !" 
 she whispered. 
 
 Betty was about to respond in some way to 
 this when her attention was arrested by Mrs. 
 Martin's next remark. Evidently these "city 
 folks" were in the habit of receiving entertain- 
 ment of some kind, and they should find that 
 Maybury Centre was not behind New York city. 
 
 "We are to have some music," said Mrs. Mar- 
 tin. "Mrs. Davis, I presume you play. Will 
 you be so kind as to give us a tune on the me- 
 lodeon?" 
 
 "Why, Lizy Martin!" cried Mrs. Davis, who 
 
 13 191
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 looked the personification of plumpness and pros- 
 perity, "I haven't touched a piano, let alone a 
 melodeon, since I was married. I sh'd forget to 
 keep my feet goin' sure as anything. Get some 
 of the young folks to play us something. There's 
 your Rachel Amy. I presume she can play." 
 
 But Rachel Amy, in an agony of shyness, van- 
 ished into the next room, and the sound of her 
 shoes was heard in a diminuendo as she hastened 
 to the remotest corner of her mother's share of 
 the house. 
 
 "There!" said Mrs. Martin. "To think of all 
 the money I've spent on her musical education, 
 and now she won't put her finger to the keys! 
 Don't any of your girls play, Mrs. Hamilton?" 
 
 "Florence does," piped out Betty, who had not 
 quite forgiven her sister for her signal of silence. 
 
 "Yes, Florence plays," said Mrs. Hamilton; 
 "though I don't know whether you have ever 
 played on a melodeon, have you, dear?" 
 
 "Never," said Florence. "I'm sure I never 
 could." 
 
 " I could," said Betty. " I've tried it. Would 
 you like me to play 'Home, Sweet Home, with 
 Variations'?" 
 
 Without waiting to be urged, she went to the 
 little organ and played her "piece." As she oc- 
 casionally forgot to keep her feet in action, be- 
 ing so fully occupied with her hands, the music 
 
 192
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 was somewhat halting and gasping in its effect, 
 but no one seemed to mind. 
 
 "Isn't it hot!" exclaimed Mrs. Davis, when she 
 had finished thanking her. 
 
 "Would you like fans?" asked Mrs. Martin. 
 "Rachel Amy, hand round the fans." 
 
 Rachel Amy, who had appeared when Betty 
 began to play, procured a pile of palm-leaf fans 
 and distributed them as far as they would go. 
 
 "My, but your shoes creak!" said Betty, quite 
 audibly, from the music-stool. Rachel Amy's face 
 became more deeply flushed than before, but she 
 did not speak. 
 
 "Come, sit down by me, child," said Mrs. Top- 
 pan, making room for her on the sofa; "you look 
 real tired, Rachel Amy. I guess you've been 
 working hard getting ready; and it's such a hot 
 day." 
 
 "Well, if anybody's felt the heat I guess it's 
 me," said Mrs. Martin. "It's not worth while 
 for you to be sittin' down now, Rachel Amy. 
 It's time we had the refreshments. If you'll ex- 
 cuse me a minute, ladies " She left the room, 
 followed by her daughter, and the visitors fanned 
 and rocked and talked while she was gone, and 
 Betty, in response to a request from Mrs. Davis, 
 again played "Home, Sweet Home." 
 
 "I did it better that time," said she. "I only 
 forgot my feet once. Would you like to hear 
 
 193
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 'Monastery Bells'?" But before she had played 
 more than the opening bars of that classic she 
 was interrupted by the return of their hostess, 
 who came in bearing a large tray, and followed 
 by Rachel Amy carrying a smaller one. These 
 trays were placed upon the centre-table, from the 
 top of which Mrs. Toppan hurriedly removed the 
 piles of books and the ornamental lamp at the 
 request of Mrs. Martin, who had not done this 
 before the company came, for the obvious reason 
 that she wished her new lamp to be seen and 
 admired. 
 
 "There!" exclaimed Mrs. Martin. "I d' know 
 as it's etiquettical, but I thought it would be real 
 acceptable and something new at a four-o'clock 
 to have maple syrup instead of tea. It's more 
 substantial, anyway. Rachel Amy, you hand 
 round the saucers. Ain't her shoes awful, 
 though? Suppose you try goin' on your tip- 
 toes, Rachel Amy, and then you won't make such 
 a noise. I hope it ain't givin' any of you a head- 
 ache like it has me. You're lucky if it hasn't. 
 I don't believe anybody ever had such headaches 
 as I have. It does seem sometimes as though I 
 was especially picked out by the Lord to suffer." 
 
 While she talked she handed the plates, upon 
 each of which was a glass saucer containing 
 the maple syrup, to her daughter, who in turn 
 distributed them among the guests. 
 
 194
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "It's real hot; be careful you don't burn your 
 mouth," whispered Rachel Amy to each person. 
 
 The guests stirred and hesitated. No one felt 
 like burning her mouth on a hot day. There was 
 no doubt about the heat in the syrup, for steam 
 was certainly to be seen rising from each saucer. 
 One or two tried the effect of blowing upon the 
 spoonful. No one spoke for a long time. At 
 last Betty laid down her spoon. 
 
 "Goody, but it's sweet!" she exclaimed. "I 
 don't believe I can eat another drop. It makes 
 me feel " 
 
 "Betty!" said her mother and Florence to- 
 gether. 
 
 "There goes Chris!" put in Pauline, who was 
 by the window and had heroically disposed of all 
 of her syrup. Her remark effectually diverted 
 Betty's attention from the possible effects of the 
 refreshments. 
 
 "Oh, I want to speak to him!" she cried, set- 
 ting her plate upon the music-stool, from which 
 she had quickly jumped down, and, hurrying to 
 the front door, she ran out-of-doors, glad to es- 
 cape from the stifling atmosphere of the crowded 
 parlor. 
 
 "Chris, where are you going?" she called out. 
 "Oh, I'm so glad you've come along! We're 
 having the most awful time at a party. I don't 
 think I'll go back. I was going to call you in, 
 
 195
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 but it is so nice and fresh outside I am going to 
 stay out. Such a party ! We are all eating hor- 
 rible, hot, sweet stuff that burns your mouth and 
 makes you feel ill! What are you going to do? 
 I'll go with you." 
 
 Christopher hesitated. Then he said, slowly: 
 "I've been to see George Smith. I heard he was 
 here, and I I wanted to speak to him." 
 
 "What do you want to speak to George Smith 
 about? Chris, you act just as if you had a secret. 
 Is it with George Smith? I think it will be real 
 mean if you don't tell me, too, when we are such 
 intimate friends. You haven't been over for ever 
 so long. I thought you must be mad about some- 
 thing, only I knew there wasn't anything you 
 could possibly be mad with me for." 
 
 "Oh no," said Christopher, "I'm not mad 
 with you." He was moving slowly away from 
 her. "I think if you'll excuse me, Betty, I'll 
 go home now." 
 
 "That means you don't want me to know it. 
 I think it's very strange. You are certainly 
 quite queer, Chris. You look different. I be- 
 lieve you are mad!" 
 
 "Oh no, I'm not! Indeed I'm not, Betty." 
 
 "Then if you're not, why don't you stay and 
 talk to me? Or we can walk a little way to- 
 gether. I'm perfectly sick of the party and the 
 old maple syrup." 
 
 196
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 " Do you think it would be very polite for you 
 to leave?" 
 
 "Oh, of course. Mamma and Florence and 
 Pauline are all there. Nobody cares whether I 
 go back. Do tell me what the matter is. You 
 always used to tell me things, Chris. You never 
 have been like this." Her voice, which was usu- 
 ally crisp and high, became softer. She spoke in 
 a gentle tone of sympathy. Her quick intuition 
 had told her that something serious was really 
 troubling the boy. 
 
 He glanced at her. He was very fond of Betty, 
 and, as she said, he always had made her his con- 
 fidante. To be sure, there had never before been 
 anything quite so important to confide, but he 
 knew that she could be trusted not to tell if she 
 promised. With all her high spirits and her heed- 
 lessness, Betty Hamilton always kept her promises. 
 Perhaps she would be able to advise him. He had 
 a great respect for her knowledge of the world. 
 
 "I believe I will tell you," he said, slowly. 
 
 "Good! I knew you would." 
 
 But just then Pauline came to Mrs. Martin's 
 front door. "Come in, Betty, and say good-bye," 
 she said. "Mamma says that we are to go home 
 now. Come! Betty, you were awfully rude to 
 run out." 
 
 "Oh, bother!" exclaimed Betty. "Well, Chris, 
 will you wait here for me?" 
 
 197
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "No, I can't. I have got to go home. But 
 couldn't you come over to-morrow? Grandfather 
 said I was to ask anybody to come I liked." 
 
 "All right, I will, if you'll promise to tell me. 
 Will you?" 
 
 "Yes, and that will be better than here. I 
 couldn't tell you about it all here." 
 
 This was certainly mysterious, and Betty re- 
 turned to the party in a state of intense wonder 
 and curiosity. What could be the matter with 
 Chris? But she forgot it temporarily, for such 
 very strange things were taking place in the 
 house. 
 
 The guests were all standing, and were evi- 
 dently about to go. Mrs. Martin was speaking: 
 
 "Yes," she said, "I've made up my mind at 
 last and decided to take him. Me and Mr. Tarle- 
 ton are goin' to be married next week Wednes- 
 day. We're goin' to live over to Kingford. He's 
 goin' into business there. I never did care much 
 for Maybury Centre. Lucetta's goin' to buy my 
 half of this house, and Rachel Amy's goin' to live 
 here with her. It suits better, and she can visit 
 to and fro. It's goin' to be a real quiet weddin', 
 but when I get settled over to Kingford I shall be 
 at home certain days, and you can come and call 
 on me. I always did have a hankerin' to live 
 there, and it suits me real well that Mr. Tarleton 
 is goin' into business there." 
 
 198
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 The guests gathered about her and gave her 
 their congratulations; then they bade her good- 
 bye. 
 
 She shook hands mechanically with each in turn 
 as they filed past her, murmuring that they had 
 enjoyed the four-o'clock very much. They all 
 longed to get home now, that they might discuss 
 the affair in all its bearings. The house with the 
 wire netting and the divided family had been of 
 supreme interest in the village for a year, and this 
 episode but added fuel to the flame of gossip. 
 Mrs. Toppan walked with Mrs. Hamilton to the 
 point where their roads parted. The two had a 
 warm liking for each other. 
 
 "Well, it's wonderful how things are turning 
 out. I do hope life will be easier now for that 
 poor girl," said Mrs. Toppan. "Mr. Toppan al- 
 ways said words would do no good now with 
 Liza Martin. You can't change a woman of her 
 age, and there's no use trying. Only the Lord 
 can work miracles, and He seems to be doin' it, 
 but we mortals can't. Poor Rachel Amy ! She's 
 had a hard time of it, but a change has come at 
 last." 
 
 Mrs. Hamilton glanced at her three daughters, 
 who were walking in front, whose lot was so dif- 
 ferent. "She seems like such a nice girl. I am 
 very glad for her," she said. 
 
 "And she is a nice girl!" said Mrs. Toppan. 
 
 199
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Next to Chris, I'm more fond of Rachel Amy 
 than any child in Maybury Centre. Of course, no 
 one comes up to Chris. I'm worried about him. 
 He don't seem quite happy. Dear me, I thought 
 when he went to live at Keith Hall and had every- 
 thing money could do for him he'd be happy 
 enough, but the old gentleman isn't an easy one 
 to live with. Something's going wrong, Mrs. 
 Hamilton. Have you noticed it?" 
 
 But Mrs. Hamilton had not seen Christopher 
 lately, so could give no clew to the cause of the 
 change in the boy; and presently they reached 
 the fork in the roads, and Mrs. Toppan hastened 
 home alone.
 
 XIII 
 
 /CHRISTOPHER, when Betty returned to 
 \J make the proper farewells to Mrs. Martin, 
 walked slowly along the street. It was a long 
 distance from Keith Hall to the village, and in 
 the heat and dust it had been more than usual- 
 ly fatiguing. For some undefined reason he had 
 not wished to ride his pony. Neither would he 
 ask his grandfather for the use of one of the 
 many carriages. It was not merely because he 
 did not care to have him know where he was 
 going; there was something deeper, more serious 
 than that. He would not ask a favor. 
 
 The boy had no one to speak to, no one of 
 whom to seek advice. There are few who can 
 reach a wise decision unaided when our affairs 
 seem complicated, few who are not helped by the 
 mere fact of "talking over" that which is troub- 
 ling us, and Christopher was still a child, and one 
 who needed the tender compassion of a mother, 
 the wise counsel of a father. He thought more 
 than once of going to Mr. and Mrs. Toppan, and of 
 
 laying the matter before them ; but though they 
 201
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 were near and dear friends, they were not his kin. 
 The ties of blood relationship were very strongly 
 developed in this boy who, until now, had been so 
 alone. He was too much in sympathy with his 
 grandfather to discuss the proud old man with 
 any one else. He had too much pride himself 
 to acknowledge to the Toppans that General 
 Keith had been unkind, unjust, to ask them if it 
 would be right for him to give up his father's 
 name. Betty Hamilton might be different. She 
 was only a child like himself. Perhaps his grand- 
 father would not mind so much if he only told 
 Betty. 
 
 He thought about this in a vague way as he 
 trudged along the sun-baked road. Although it 
 was now late in the afternoon, it was still very hot. 
 There was scarcely a breath of air stirring. The 
 bushes and grass which grew beside the road 
 were gray with dust and parched by lack of rain. 
 Some cows pastured on the other side of the stone 
 wall moved toward the bars, hoping, no doubt, 
 that he had come to lead them home. A little 
 garter-snake wriggled across his path, and the 
 faint rustling in the grass showed where it dis- 
 appeared. Chris paused a moment to watch its 
 course, but it was soon gone. Just then a car- 
 riage turned a bend in the road ahead and ap- 
 proached him. The General himself was driving 
 
 the fine bay horses, seated on the high box-seat 
 202
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 with the groom beside him. When he saw Chris 
 he reined in the bays and the man jumped down. 
 
 " I thought I should meet you," called out Gen- 
 eral Keith. "It is too hot for you to be walking 
 so far. Why didn't you ask for a horse, Chris- 
 topher? What do you mean by walking on a 
 day like this, with the stable full of horses eat- 
 ing their heads off and needing to be exercised? 
 Come, get in. Hawkins, help Mr. Christopher up. 
 Be careful, now." 
 
 Christopher made no audible response. Whether 
 he desired it or not, he allowed himself to be as- 
 sisted to the place beside his grandfather, and the 
 man climbed in behind. 
 
 "We will take a little drive now we are out," 
 said the General. "Where have you been? Eh? 
 I can't hear you. Speak louder, my boy. Your 
 old grandfather is getting deaf, and you are so 
 far below rne in this trap." 
 
 "I have been to the village," repeated Chris- 
 topher, and then they both became silent. The 
 General intended to question him more closely 
 on their return, but, as he had said, conversation 
 was difficult from his high seat. They met Mrs. 
 Toppan just after she had parted from Mrs. 
 Hamilton. She smiled up at her favorite as she 
 waited beside the road to let the carriage pass. 
 
 "I'm glad to see them driving together," she 
 said to herself, heedless of the clouds of dust in 
 
 203
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 which she stood while she watched them drive 
 on. "I don't know what it is, but I've had that 
 feeling so strong to-day that something was wrong 
 with the child. Dan'el would say it was all 
 nonsense, and most likely it is, but I felt it all the 
 same. Seeing them together makes me feel bet- 
 ter. Dear me! I wish I could look after that 
 child myself! It seems as though I just didn't 
 have enough faith to trust him to the Lord as 
 if I must put my finger in a pie which it is clear 
 enough the Lord doesn't intend me to have the 
 baking of! Well, He knows best, and I know 
 He knows best, but it's hard to settle down quiet- 
 ly to the knowledge. Marthy Toppan, you've 
 got a lot to learn yet! The hardest thing in the 
 world to agree to, though, is to wait and do 
 nothing." 
 
 The General and his grandson took a long drive, 
 and when they returned to the village they found 
 that the mail was in. Hawkins went into the 
 post-office and brought out but two letters, which 
 he gave to General Keith. The General thrust 
 them into his pocket, but as soon as he reached 
 home he opened and read them. They were evi- 
 dently of great importance, for he quite forgot to 
 question Christopher about the afternoon, nor 
 could he talk on any subject during dinner. His 
 mind was completely absorbed by the contents 
 of one of his letters. He took it out and read it 
 
 204
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 again as soon as dinner was over. Then he sat 
 on the porch smoking until Christopher went to 
 bed, not playing the violin as usual, nor speaking 
 to the boy. Chris kissed him good-night and 
 went up-stairs, and then the General walked up 
 and down for some time, finally going into the 
 library and seating himself at his desk, where he 
 wrote several letters, quite oblivious to time and 
 to anything which might be occurring within or 
 without the big house. 
 
 That evening at about eight o'clock George 
 Smith walked past the Toppan Farm and over 
 the road to Keith Hall. He reached the entrance 
 gates of the great estate a few minutes after 
 General Keith left the piazza and went to his 
 library. George did not approach the front of 
 the house, but went instead to the side, and stood 
 quietly beneath one of the windows. Presently 
 the mosquito frame was gently raised in this win- 
 dow and Christopher leaned out. 
 
 "George," he said, in a voice that was scarcely 
 more than a whisper, "are you there?" 
 
 "Yes," replied George, "and it's to-morrow. 
 Seven o'clock train. Can you get it?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Say, Chris!" 
 
 "What?" 
 
 "I think you're an awful fool. You'd better 
 not." 
 
 205
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Yes, I will! I'm going!" 
 
 "All right. But I think you're a fool, all the 
 same." 
 
 Having delivered himself of this opinion, George 
 walked away as quietly as he had come. At the 
 gate, just as he turned into the road to go back 
 to the village, he met Thomas, who was coming 
 from there himself. They bade each other good- 
 evening, but nothing more was said. Thomas 
 supposed it was some friend of one of the other 
 men. The moon was just rising, and it had been 
 too dark to distinguish clearly who it was. He 
 passed an hour at the stable himself, and then 
 returned to the house. 
 
 Christopher, who was still watching from his 
 window, saw Thomas come in the gate, and he 
 hurried back to bed. After lying there quietly 
 for a little while he got up and packed a few 
 things in a bag. The moon was up now and 
 shining right into his room. It was not necessary 
 to have any other light. There was not much to 
 do, and within half an hour he was in bed again, 
 but it was long before he fell asleep. 
 
 Dawn came very early these days, and with the 
 first gray streaks in the east he was awake. He 
 must not miss the train. He dressed himself, 
 thinking as he did so of a story he had read of a 
 boy who ran away from home, and who, in the 
 act of departure, carried his shoes in one hand 
 
 206
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 and his bag in the other as he crept down-stairs. 
 This boy had dropped his shoes with a great clat- 
 ter, so Christopher decided to wear his. Very 
 softly he left his room, closing the door as he 
 came out, and very softly he went down the 
 great staircase. It was daylight now, although 
 the sun was not yet up. As he passed the dining- 
 room door the thought of food occurred to him. 
 He had been awake so much that in spite of 
 the excitement of running away he felt hungry. 
 There were some crackers in a china jar on the 
 sideboard and some apples in a dish. He filled 
 his pockets with both, but he did not stop to eat 
 them then. Presently he had opened the side 
 door and was out in the garden. The early 
 morning air was full of the scent of the roses his 
 grandfather's roses, which they both loved. He 
 was sorry to leave them, and somehow they 
 brought the thought of his grandfather very 
 vividly before him. He could imagine the old 
 man standing among them and wondering what 
 had become of him. He was sorry to leave 
 the. roses. 
 
 He turned resolutely away from the garden 
 and walked out of the gate, It would not do to 
 loiter, or he would be seen and questioned by some 
 of the early risers among the men. He considered 
 that he had a perfect right to go if he wished, but 
 he knew that such a departure would arouse 
 
 14 207
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW. YORK 
 
 curiosity, and his grandfather would be told, and 
 would send to have him brought back. He 
 would not come, but it would complicate matters 
 to have some one sent for him. 
 
 The boy's serise of duty was in a curious state 
 of indefiniteness. He had never known of his 
 grandfather's existence until one year ago. For 
 several months he had regarded him as almost a 
 stranger, and then, suddenly, without an instant's 
 preparation, he had been taken complete posses- 
 sion of by General Keith. His filial affection, 
 which during his father's lifetime had been de- 
 voted naturally to him, was now to be completely 
 reversed, and was expected to be even more en- 
 tirely bestowed upon a person who, he had just 
 discovered, was unkind to his father who wished 
 him to be unfaithful to his father's memory by 
 giving up his name. He was a boy of a deeply 
 affectionate and faithful nature. He loved his 
 grandfather, but it was a recent love. That 
 which he felt for the memory of his father was 
 the outcome of the tender love which had sur- 
 rounded his early childhood. They had been so 
 poor together. Love had been all they owned, 
 but it had made life very sweet. Christopher 
 vaguely resented his father's poverty and his 
 grandfather's wealth. All the love and devotion 
 that he could give now were due the memory of 
 his father, he thought. With this idea he forgot 
 
 208
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 that he owed anything to General Keith that 
 though he might be right in the matter of his 
 name, he had no right to run away from his 
 home. 
 
 As he passed the Toppan Farm he almost wish- 
 ed that some of his friends might be at the front 
 of the house. He would like to say good-bye to 
 them and explain that he was going off to earn 
 his living. No one was visible, however, for Mr. 
 Toppan and the men were in the barn, and Mrs. 
 Toppan in the kitchen. Early though it was, he 
 knew that they were all up and at their work. 
 He walked on, although he was getting tired and 
 the station was yet a mile away. He would have 
 liked to rest a minute on the familiar steps of the 
 front porch. He would take a drink of water, 
 however. The old pump was close to the road, 
 and on the top of it was the cup which he had so 
 often filled and emptied. The water was deli- 
 ciously cool and refreshing, and his long drink 
 revived him. He replaced the cup on the top 
 of the pump, and again shouldering his bag, he 
 walked on. He saw no one on the road until he 
 turned into the main street of the village. The 
 postmaster was sweeping out the store, but he 
 had happened to pick up an undelivered letter 
 that was lying behind a barrel by the door just 
 as Chris passed. This so absorbed his attention 
 that he ch'd not notice the boy at all. 
 
 209
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 When Christopher at last reached the station 
 he found it locked up. His watch (the gift of his 
 grandfather on Christmas) told him that it was 
 now only a quarter past five. It would be an 
 hour and three-quarters before the train was due. 
 He curled himself up on the bench that stood on 
 the platform and waited as patiently as he could 
 for George Smith to come. 
 
 While he was waiting he had ample time for 
 thought. He remembered that he had asked 
 Betty to come to Keith Hall that morning, and 
 she had promised to do so. He had not expected 
 then to be leaving so soon, for when he saw 
 George yesterday they had spoken of going in 
 a day or two. Something must have occurred to 
 make him shorten his vacation. Chris had a 
 very vague idea of George's duties, and he sup- 
 posed that a "railroad man" who sold papers 
 had vacations as well as other professional and 
 business men. He was sorry to be so rude to 
 Betty, and no one would be able to explain it, for 
 no one would know what had become of him. 
 He intended to write to his grandfather as soon 
 as he should become established in business. 
 George was to help him to "a job." Until then 
 he expected to live on the money he had with 
 him; this amounted to about eight dollars. He 
 remembered that in the old days his father rarely 
 had that much money in his possession at once. 
 210
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 It would probably be sufficient, therefore, to pro- 
 vide him with food and lodging for a long time. 
 He looked at his watch again, and found that 
 fifteen minutes had crept slowly by. 
 
 He began to wish that he had said good-bye 
 to his grandfather. He might have written it 
 on a paper and slipped it underneath his bedroom 
 door. If he had some paper he would write some- 
 thing now. The station-master was good-natured 
 and a friend of Christopher's, and he would see 
 that it was sent to General Keith. Chris searched 
 his pockets and his bag, and finally found an old 
 letter in his bag which by good luck was already 
 addressed to his grandfather. The envelope 
 would do as it was, and there was a blank page 
 inside the sheet upon which he could write a few 
 words. The letter was one which General Keith 
 had received while they were travelling, in regard 
 to an old violin which he had afterward pur- 
 chased for his grandson. He had given the let- 
 ter to Chris to read, and had told him to keep it 
 for the present. Afterward they had looked at 
 and bought the violin. It made Chris feel sad 
 to read this letter. Who would play now with 
 grand? And he himself must do without music 
 for the present. He had not been able to bring 
 his own fiddle, that he had used so long, before 
 he knew his grandfather, for he could not carry 
 
 so much. Perhaps after awhile, when he had 
 211
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 made a fortune of his own, he could go and visit 
 his grandfather, who by that time would have 
 forgiven him for running away, and they would 
 resume their old habits of playing together. He 
 found a pencil, and wrote the following note on 
 the inner page: 
 
 "DEAR GRANDFATHER, I am sorry to go without 
 saying good-bye to you, but I have to take the early 
 train, and so there was not much time to write, and I 
 was afraid you would stop me if I told you last night, 
 and I did not know till late last night, after I had gone 
 to bed, that I was going to-day. I think it is better for 
 me to earn my own living, because I don't want to give 
 up father's name. I know you will excuse me please, 
 and I thank you for being so kind to me, and I hope you 
 will get along all right same as you did before you 
 found me. Good-bye. 
 
 "Yours truly, your grandson, 
 
 "CHRISTOPHER LOVEL." 
 
 He replaced the sheet in the old envelope, which 
 he was able to fasten up, and waited for some one 
 to come to whom he could intrust it. 
 
 At last there began to be signs of life at the 
 station. Some "drummers" who had passed the 
 night at the hotel came to take the early train. 
 They looked curiously at the fair-haired, blue- 
 eyed boy on the bench, but they did not speak 
 to him, and he did not notice them nor another 
 
 stranger who stood near. When Sam Wilson, who 
 212
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 never allowed a train to pass the Maybury Centre 
 station without his superintendence, arrived upon 
 the scene his surprise at seeing Chris among the 
 waiting passengers was very audibly expressed. 
 
 "Why, what are you doin' here at this time, 
 Chris?" he demanded. "Goin' on a journey?" 
 
 "Yes," said Christopher. 
 
 "Grandpa goin', too?" 
 
 "Oh no!" 
 
 "Well, I want to know! Whar you goin'?" 
 
 "On a journey," said Chris, smiling up at him. 
 "Will you please send this letter to my grand- 
 father?" As he had managed to reseal it, it was 
 not unlike one just received and as yet unopened. 
 
 " Who'll I give it to ?" asked Wilson. " I guess 
 you don't bank on my walkin' up to Keith Hall 
 and deliverin' it to the old gentleman himself 
 with your compliments?" 
 
 "Oh no! Just give it to the man who drives 
 down for the mail this morning. I shall be very 
 much obliged. It's important." 
 
 "One you had in your pocket and forgot to 
 give him, I presume?" 
 
 Sam's interest in the letter overcame for a time 
 his desire to know Christopher's destination, and 
 then, as something occurred to attract his atten- 
 tion to the group of travelling men, he left the 
 boy, and, stuffing the letter in his pocket, walked 
 over to join them. 
 
 213
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 At last George Smith came. He greeted Chris 
 in his usual unenthusiastic manner, quite as 
 though they were in the habit of travelling to- 
 gether every day; and the station now being open 
 and the window of the ticket-office raised for busi- 
 ness, Chris went in to buy a ticket. He had just 
 accomplished this, and had returned to the plat- 
 form to be in readiness for the train which was 
 now almost due, when the Hamiltons' carriage 
 was driven up very hurriedly to the other side 
 of the station. In it were Florence, Betty, the 
 coachman, and two trunks. The two girls jumped 
 out and ran into the station. There was just time 
 to buy a ticket and have the trunks checked when 
 the train arrived. 
 
 Betty had risen early for the fun of accompany- 
 ing her sister to the seven-o'clock train, which 
 Florence was obliged to take in order to make her 
 connections. Full of importance at being the only 
 one of the family to see Florence off, Betty carried 
 the bag and umbrella, and devoted herself wholly 
 to her sister's welfare. She paid little attention 
 to any one else, and did not see Christopher, 
 who stood with George Smith at the other end of 
 the platform and entered the last car. The train 
 began to move, and Betty, vociferously calling 
 and waving her farewells to Florence, stood back 
 to watch it go by. As she did so a man brushed 
 against her and swung himself on to the car that 
 
 214
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Florence was in. She looked up expecting him 
 to apologize, for he had nearly knocked her down 
 in his haste. He turned on the step and glanced 
 at her, and then with an oath that was plainly 
 audible he disappeared within the car. But not 
 before Betty had recognized him. She had a keen 
 eye and a ready memory. She knew very well 
 that the man with the enormous ears and shifty 
 eyes, in spite of the disguise of a newly acquired 
 beard and mustache, was none other than the 
 one with whom she and Christopher had walked 
 in Hoboken. What could he have been doing in 
 May bury? And where had she recently seen 
 those eyes and ears? And then, just as the last 
 car was passing her, a window was raised and 
 Christopher Lovel leaned out. 
 
 "Good-bye, Betty!" he shouted. "I'm sorry 
 I couldn't let you know not to come. Good-bye !" 
 
 Betty was too much astonished to speak. 
 Where could he be going? Had General Keith 
 again decided to make one of his sudden jour- 
 neys? And had Chris seen the man? She 
 waved the handkerchief which had been doing 
 duty for Florence, and as the train, moving 
 now with increased speed, hastened away from 
 Maybury Centre, she could see something 
 white fluttering from a window of the last 
 car. 
 
 She went around the corner of the station, and 
 
 215
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 was just getting into the carriage when Sam 
 Wilson approached her. 
 
 "Say," said he, "I guess it's a little mite easier 
 for you to do an errand for Chris than it is for 
 me. He wants I should get this letter to his 
 grandfther. Will you give it to him?" 
 
 "Why, wasn't his grandfather with him?" 
 asked Betty. "Who was with him?" 
 
 "George Smith." 
 
 "Are you sure?" 
 
 "Well, young lady, I presume I know the dif- 
 ference between General Keith and George Smith." 
 
 "But what has he gone away with George Smith 
 for?" 
 
 "That's more'n I know or he'd tell, and I guess, 
 on the whole, as long as you're so surprised, I'll 
 undertake to deliver this here letter myself."
 
 XIV 
 
 /GENERAL KEITH was not an early riser. 
 \Jf Neither was he a man who desired the com- 
 panionship of others at breakfast. On the con- 
 trary, it bored him even to say good-morning, 
 and it was a distinct relief to him to take the first 
 meal of the day in solitary comfort. It frequently 
 happened, therefore, that Christopher, who had 
 learned his grandfather's habits and preferences 
 very quickly, ate his breakfast alone at an earlier 
 hour. It was really about the only period of the 
 day when he could do precisely as he wished, 
 and he usually availed himself of the privilege. 
 So it was not in the least surprising that he did 
 not appear at the breakfast-table; he had prob- 
 ably risen early this fine summer morning, and 
 was now at the stable with his pony or at work 
 in his garden. The boy's absence did not trouble 
 General Keith in the least. He put on his old 
 straw hat, and went out to examine the rose- 
 bushes. A new species of bug was giving him 
 trouble this year, and he entered into a long con- 
 sultation with the head gardener. That over, 
 217
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the coachman wished to speak to him about one 
 of the horses which had mysteriously gone lame, 
 and which required immediate attention from a 
 more skilful practitioner than the local "vet." 
 It was ten o'clock before General Keith had time 
 to wonder where Christopher could be. He was 
 sitting on the piazza awaiting the bringing of the 
 morning mail by the man who every day drove 
 to the village to get it, when it occurred to him 
 that he had not yet seen his grandson. He was 
 just about to send for Thomas to ask where he 
 was when that faithful attendant appeared from 
 within the house. 
 
 "Where is Mr. Christopher?" asked the General, 
 quite as if Thomas had him hidden in his pocket 
 ready to be produced on demand. "I wish to 
 speak to him immediately." 
 
 "I don't know where he is, General. I haven't 
 seen Mr. Christopher to-day." 
 
 "Well, I suppose some one has seen him. At 
 any rate, you can find him. Tell him we will have 
 some music to come at once." 
 
 "Beg pardon, sir, but I can't find him. He 
 ain't nowhere, sir." 
 
 "What nonsense is this, Thomas? Do you 
 mean to tell me that the boy is hiding? What 
 do you mean? Eh?" 
 
 It was evident that the General was fast los- 
 ing his easily lost temper. Thomas trembled, but 
 
 218
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 stood his ground. The boy could not be found, 
 and that there would be an exciting scene with 
 his master he well knew. 
 
 "Well, sir, I means just this: he ain't nowhere 
 on the place, Mr. Christopher ain't. He ain't 
 been seen by nobody to-day, and, what's more, 
 he ain't had no breakfast." 
 
 "How long have you known this ? Why wasn't 
 I told at once?" The General's voice was omi- 
 nously calm. 
 
 "I've come to tell you, sir, as soon as ever I 
 knowed it. I thought Mr. Chris had had his 
 breakfast early and gone off to play or something, 
 same as he always does, but I kinder got uneasy, 
 and a little while ago I went all round looking 
 and couldn't find him nowhere. Then I asked 
 Mrs. Adams, and she hadn't laid eyes on him, 
 and neither had any of the maids, nor anybody 
 else. It might be, sir, if I may make so bold as 
 to suggest it, that he's gone over through the 
 woods to Mr. Hamilton's place." 
 
 "Send a man over there at once to find out. 
 The boy ought not to go without asking my per- 
 mission; but but Well, very probably he is 
 there. Another time don't be so slow about find- 
 ing out his absence, Thomas. This must not 
 occur again. You understand me? It is your 
 business to know where Mr. Christopher is at any 
 moment I may choose to ask." 
 
 219
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Yes, sir. Very good, sir." 
 
 Thomas retired, feeling rather relieved at being 
 dismissed from the presence in so mild a manner. 
 Tn a short time a groom drove away in the run- 
 about, with instructions to go to Mr. Hamilton's 
 and bring Christopher home. 
 
 The carriage had scarcely disappeared over the 
 road when Betty Hamilton, followed by Brownie, 
 approached the house by the path which led from 
 Pringle Farm to Keith Hall through the woods. 
 She had been walking rapidly, and her cheeks 
 were flushed with the heat and her curly hair lay 
 in damp masses about her face. It was another 
 hot day, and she had hurried. She went straight 
 to the front piazza, where she found her friend, 
 the General, as she expected. They had been on 
 terms of cordiality all summer, which had been 
 disturbed only temporarily by the visit to the 
 circus, and Betty was one of the small number of 
 persons who were not afraid of him. 
 
 "Good-morning, General Keith," said she. 
 
 "Good-morning, Miss Betty. So you have 
 brought home that young scamp. Did he send 
 you ahead to make his excuses? I suppose he 
 has been breakfasting with you." 
 
 "If you mean Chris, he hasn't been breakfast- 
 ing with us at all." 
 
 "He hasn't! Well, he doesn't deserve any 
 
 breakfast. But I don't like his taking such a 
 220
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 long walk over and back without food. I have 
 sent a man over to your place to bring him back, 
 and now he has missed him. As long as he went 
 he ought to have stayed longer. Why doesn't he 
 come forward like a man? Has he sent you to 
 get his scolding?" 
 
 "Chris isn't here, General Keith. I came to 
 ask you where he had gone. He didn't tell me, he 
 just shouted out good-bye as the train was mov- 
 ing. I thought, of course, you were with him till 
 Sam Wilson told me you weren't." 
 
 "What do you mean?" demanded General 
 Keith. He sat forward, his eyes fixed eagerly 
 upon Betty, his hands trembling as he grasped 
 the arms of his chair to steady them. "The 
 train moving what train?" 
 
 "Why, the seven o'clock. I went to see Flor- 
 ence off, and we were so late we didn't get there 
 till the train was almost there ; and after she got 
 on and it was going I saw Chris." 
 
 "You have made a mistake, Miss Betty a 
 very great mistake. My grandson was not on 
 the train which left Maybury at seven o'clock 
 this morning. Impossible! Preposterous! Per- 
 fectly preposterous!" 
 
 "Oh, but he was, General Keith! I should 
 think I knew Chris ! He saw me before I saw him, 
 and he opened the window and called out good- 
 bye and he was sorry to go without seeing me, 
 221
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 or something like that. You know I was coming 
 over here this morning to play with him, and he 
 hadn't let me know not to come. I thought you 
 were with him, but they told me afterward you 
 weren't." 
 
 "But but where has he where has he 
 gone?" The General's voice shook. He could 
 scarcely control it. 
 
 "I don't know. That's just what I came over 
 to find out." 
 
 "Was he alone?" 
 
 "No," said Betty, slowly, "I don't think he 
 was alone." 
 
 "Whom was he with? Speak! Don't keep 
 me waiting like this!" 
 
 But still Betty hesitated. She did not want 
 to tell General Keith that Chris had gone away 
 with George Smith. George had formerly borne 
 a bad name in the village. To be sure, that was 
 now a thing of the past, and George had been 
 found to be of respectable family, and at present, 
 according to Christopher and his sister Lucy, was 
 making a fortune; but she remembered the prej- 
 udice. 
 
 "What do you mean by not answering me, Miss 
 Betty? I insist upon your telling me at once." 
 
 "I didn't see who it was," said she, at last. 
 "I didn't see anybody with Chris. I thought 
 
 you were with him." 
 
 222
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "But why has he gone?" asked the General, 
 forgetting for the moment the identity of his 
 mysterious companion. "And where? Can he 
 have gone to South Maybury? Why didn't he 
 take a horse if he wanted to go to South May- 
 bury? Ah, who is this coming? Oh, it is only 
 Hawkins with the mail, and some one he has 
 picked up." 
 
 "It is Sam Wilson," said Betty, watching the 
 approaching carriage. "Sam Wilson can tell you 
 whom Chris was with. He was at the station, 
 too." 
 
 The carriage drove up to the steps and Sam 
 Wilson clambered down. The coachman was 
 about to drive around to the back door, where 
 he would deliver the mail to Thomas, who would 
 in turn bring it to his master, when General Keith 
 ordered him to wait. He had recovered his self- 
 possession, and there was no sign of weakness 
 now, as he stood on the upper step and awaited 
 what news the stranger might give him. 
 
 "I understand, sir, from this young lady, that 
 you saw my grandson leave Maybury this morn- 
 ing. He omitted to tell me that he was taking 
 a journey. Will you have the goodness to tell 
 me with whom he went?" 
 
 All the village stood in awe of General Keith. 
 He was their one "great man," and was respected 
 accordingly. Sam Wilson, describing the inter- 
 is 223
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 view later to his intimates, declared that he "was 
 floored, clean floored," whatever that might mean. 
 As he had come expressly to impart the informa- 
 tion for which he had just been asked, his em- 
 barrassment was somewhat unreasonable. He 
 hesitated, cleared his throat twice, and remained 
 speechless. 
 
 "Oh, do hurry up, Mr. Wilson," said Betty, 
 impatiently. "Don't you see we've got to find 
 out quickly about Chris? Where is the letter he 
 gave you?" 
 
 "A letter!" exclaimed General Keith. "Do 
 you mean to say you have a letter for me which 
 he gave you? The train, I understand, left May- 
 bury Centre at seven o'clock. It is now" he 
 opened and closed his watch "twenty-seven 
 minutes past ten. Will you have the goodness to 
 give me that letter? WTiat excuse can you pos- 
 sibly have for not delivering it earlier?" 
 
 "See here, General," drawled Sam Wilson, 
 stung into finding his voice at last, "I ain't no 
 letter-carrier, nor I ain't no errand-boy. I d' 
 know as I hev any call to tramp out here from 
 the village just because a boy of twelve years old 
 chooses to give me a letter addressed to you." 
 
 "No, I suppose not, I suppose not," said the 
 General, recollecting his old grudge against the 
 slowness of the Northern rustic. "But as you are 
 now here, kindly give me the letter." 
 
 224
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Sam felt in his pockets and finally produced 
 it. The General looked at it in some surprise and 
 with visible disappointment. This was not Chris- 
 topher's handwriting. He opened it and found 
 it was the old letter about the violin. He tossed 
 it on the ground with a gesture of impatience. 
 The three persons who were curiously watching 
 him were astonished. 
 
 " I don't know what the boy means by sending 
 that to me," said he. "Did he give you no 
 message?" 
 
 "Not a word." 
 
 "And whom was he with?" 
 
 "Well," said Sam Wilson, drawling more slow- 
 ly and more aggravatingly than ever, "he was 
 with a feller that I ain't never cottoned to. Not 
 but what he mightn't be all right; I don't say 
 he ain't. But he's a feller that ain't had many 
 friends up this way, and he ain't likely to unless 
 he gets a tiny mite more what you might call 
 affable. I don't say he ain't honest; I don't 
 say he ain't what you might call straight. But he 
 ain't never been a favorite of mine no, nor of 
 anybody else's, so far as I can make out. He " 
 
 "Will you have the goodness to tell me," 
 broke in the General and never had his voice 
 been more chilling and distinct "the name of 
 this person?" 
 
 Sam Wilson again became silent. The icy 
 
 225
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 voice of the great man froze the speech on his 
 own lips. 
 
 "Oh, goody!" exclaimed Betty, "I'll tell you, 
 General Keith. It was George Smith. Don't 
 you know? Miss Lucetta Smith's nephew. She 
 lives in the house with the wire netting, only 
 they've taken it down now." 
 
 "George Smith !" repeated the General. "Where 
 have I heard the name of George Smith? Did 
 Christopher know him?" 
 
 "Oh yes. He is a newsboy on the trains from 
 Boston. Chris knows him quite well. He met 
 him the day you came up. He told me about it." 
 
 " So he did. He met him the day we came up." 
 The old man repeated the words vaguely. Then 
 he recollected himself. "Thank you, Miss Betty. 
 And I am also much obliged to you, sir. Haw- 
 kins, drive this gentleman back to the village 
 at once, if you please." 
 
 And before the deliberate Sam realized what 
 was happening he was again in the carriage, and 
 was being rapidly taken home without having 
 discovered half the information he had hoped for; 
 but he had enough as it was to arrest the atten- 
 tion of his intimates, who were awaiting him on 
 the porch in front of the store, and before long 
 the departure of Chris was known to most of 
 the residents of Maybury Centre. 
 
 Betty and the General, left alone together on 
 
 226
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the steps of the piazza, for a moment did not 
 speak. Then the old man turned slowly and 
 looked down at the little girl. 
 
 "Miss Betty/' said he, "I beg you to speak to 
 me with perfect candor. You are my grandson's 
 friend. Perhaps, and very probably, you enjoy 
 more of his confidence than I do. Have you any 
 idea of where he has gone?" 
 
 "I haven't the least idea, General Keith," said 
 Betty, eagerly. "I never supposed he would do 
 that." 
 
 Her intonation, the emphasis she laid on the 
 word "that," something in her face, caused him 
 to look at her more closely. "Did you have 
 reason to suppose he would do anything? Come, 
 have the goodness to tell me what you do know!" 
 
 "Why, I don't really know anything, General 
 Keith, except, of course, we've all noticed some- 
 thing has been the matter with Chris lately. He 
 hasn't been half so well, so jolly as he used to 
 be. You know he always was so sort of happy. 
 He's been quiet, and kind of worried." 
 
 ' ' And why has he been worried ? What earthly 
 reason could my grandson have for being worried, 
 I should like to know?" The General was now 
 walking up and down the piazza. 
 
 "I suppose " began Betty, and then she was 
 silent. 
 
 "Well, well, you suppose what?" 
 
 227
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "I'm afraid you you would rather I didn't 
 say." 
 
 "What nonsense! Say anything if it will give 
 me the slightest clew to the boy's extraordinary 
 action. Not but what I expect him back by the 
 next train. I do not for a moment imagine that 
 he has gone with any intention of staying over- 
 night. But what do you think he has been anx- 
 ious about?" 
 
 "Well," said Betty, "it was that day when he 
 was over at our house, the day we went to the 
 circus afterward. We were playing Indians and 
 were hiding, and no one knew we were there, and 
 we heard Florence and one of her friends talking, 
 and and he didn't like what was said about 
 you and his father and mother. That was the 
 reason we went over to South Maybury. He 
 wanted to go off somewhere." 
 
 The General came and stood beside her. 
 "What was said?" His voice was very quiet. 
 
 Betty suddenly felt like crying. What could 
 she say? How could she explain the conversa- 
 tion they had overheard? Why did General 
 Keith look so still ? Instinctively she thrust her 
 hand into his, she felt so very sorry. 
 
 "Will you please tell me? Tell me just what 
 the boy heard." 
 
 "They told about his father and mother being 
 so poor, and that you hadn't tried to find him 
 
 228
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 until it was too late to help them. Of course, it 
 may not have been true. Chris seemed to feel 
 very badly about it. His face got all white and 
 queer, and he wouldn't play any more. We went 
 to South Maybury, and he seemed to forget it 
 for a little while, but he's never been the same 
 since. He has been sort of sort of queer. I 
 told him not to mind so much." 
 
 "Ah!" said the General. Then, after a mo- 
 ment: "Thank you, Miss Betty. That, and the 
 name, I suppose that, and the name." He 
 began again to walk up and down. "But with- 
 out a word to me! To go off even for the day 
 without saying good-bye!" 
 
 "Didn't he say good-bye in that letter?" asked 
 Betty, her glance falling on the sheet which, with 
 its envelope, lay upon the grass where it had flut- 
 tered in the soft summer breeze. 
 
 "Not a word of it. It is a letter written by 
 some one else an old letter. I can't imagine what 
 he meant by sending that man up here with it." 
 
 "May I look at it?" 
 
 "Of course. It is only about a violin." 
 
 Betty procured the letter, and read the first 
 page carefully. Then she turned it and gave a 
 sudden exclamation. "Here is something from 
 Chris, General Keith! He has written on the 
 inside!" 
 
 The General seized the paper and scanned it 
 
 229
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 closely. Then he gave it back to her. "Read it 
 to me," he said. "I can't see something wrong 
 with my glasses read it to me." 
 
 Betty read the note slowly and distinctly. Not 
 a word was said by either when she finished. She 
 glanced timidly at General Keith. Even Betty 
 felt a new timidity. She had never before been 
 in the presence of acute mental suffering. It 
 was several minutes before either spoke. At last 
 the General turned toward the house. 
 
 "I must go to get him/' he said, slowly. "I 
 must go after my little boy. Thank you, Miss 
 Betty I thank you very much." 
 
 He was about to enter the house when Betty 
 remembered one very important fact which she 
 had not yet communicated to him at least, her 
 mother thought it was important, and had been 
 very much disturbed when she heard it. 
 
 "Wait a minute, General Keith," said Betty. 
 "That man was on the same train with Chris." 
 
 "What man?" 
 
 "The one who tried to run away with us in 
 Hoboken. That man, don't you know, who came 
 up to us in the Jersey City station!" 
 
 "He was on the train this morning!" The 
 General turned and came back to her. He was 
 as much impressed by her announcement as her 
 mother had been. "Was Christopher with him ?" 
 
 "Oh no! He went into another car. He may 
 
 230
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 not even have seen Chris. I shouldn't have seen 
 him if he hadn't almost knocked me down hurry- 
 ing to get on. I think he must have been late 
 getting there, he was in such a terrible hurry. He 
 was mad because I was in his way, and I was 
 mad, too. He must be a very bad person, for he 
 said an awful swear word." 
 
 "Do you think he recognized you?" 
 
 "Oh yes, indeed he did! That's the reason 
 he was so furious. And I knew him right away, 
 though he looks different. He has a beard now 
 a sort of a false-looking, dark beard. And I think 
 he's the same man we saw at the circus, only he 
 had a lot of yellow hair then. He was doing 
 tricks." 
 
 "Even if he did not see Christopher before he 
 got on the train he will certainly find him there 
 before they go far. I feel very much disturbed 
 by what you have told me, Miss Betty. I can- 
 not help connecting my boy's departure in some 
 way with this man. It is extraordinary that he 
 should have been in Maybury. Why should he 
 come to this out-of-the-way spot unless for some 
 mischief? You say you saw him at the circus?" 
 
 "Yes; only I wasn't sure of it then, but I am 
 now. I knew he was the ' Fascinating Fernando,' 
 but Chris didn't notice that he looked like the 
 Hoboken man." 
 
 "Do you think he remembered you?" 
 
 231
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "I don't know. He disappeared behind the 
 curtain just as I was watching his face." 
 
 Unconsciously the General was consulting with 
 Betty quite as if she were a grown woman. She 
 was not unaware of his attitude, and was much 
 pleased. It always delighted Betty to be treated 
 in this manner. She only wished that Charles 
 and Pauline were there to hear him. They would 
 never believe it unless they heard it themselves. 
 It seemed a direct answer to her wish, therefore, 
 when at that very moment Charles himself drove 
 up the avenue. In the carriage were her mother 
 and Pauline. 
 
 "I could not help coming over to see you, 
 General Keith," said Mrs. Hamilton, as they drew 
 up at the steps, "I feel so anxious about that 
 man having been in Maybury. Betty has told 
 you, I suppose. No, I will not get out, thank 
 you. I came to see if " She paused, not know- 
 ing exactly what to say. She as yet knew only 
 the bare fact of Christopher having left home 
 with George Smith, on the same train with a 
 man who had already tried before this to abduct 
 him. She did not know whether or not his grand- 
 father had been aware of the boy's intended jour- 
 ney, but she thought it was highly probable that 
 he had not. 
 
 The General finished her sentence for her. "If 
 I knew about Christopher where Christopher 
 
 232
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 has gone? No, Mrs. Hamilton, I do not. At 
 first I was inclined to believe that he had gone to 
 South Maybury or somewhere equally near, but 
 now I do not. I shall go after him at once. I 
 only wish I had some means of identifying that 
 scoundrel. I may pass him twenty times in my 
 search without knowing it." 
 
 Betty made a step forward. "Oh!" she ex- 
 claimed, impulsively, and looked from the Gen- 
 eral to her mother, and then at the General again. 
 "Couldn't I oh, mamma, do you suppose I 
 could? General Keith, couldn't you take me 
 with you? I could help you find him. I should 
 know him right away, just as I did this morning." 
 
 "You! Oh, my dear child, I couldn't let you!" 
 cried Mrs. Hamilton. 
 
 "Betty!" exclaimed Charles and Pauline tx> 
 gether. 
 
 But the General did not join in the chorus of 
 disapproval. On the contrary, his face brightened. 
 
 "Is it quite out of the question, Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton?" he asked. "I should take very good care 
 of her, and I should like to have her with me v 
 She would be in no danger. Thomas will be with 
 me and will look after her, and you can send a 
 maid. I believe if we want to secure that man 
 it is the only thing we can do to identify him 
 and Mrs. Hamilton, even now he may have 
 succeeded in getting possession of Christopher. 
 
 233
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 I beg you to allow me the privilege of Miss Betty's 
 company. I will take very good care of her." 
 
 For a moment there was silence, broken only 
 by a little song-sparrow, which was perched on 
 a bush near the porch, and the impatient stamp- 
 ing of the horse on the gravel driveway. Betty 
 gazed imploringly at her mother. 
 
 "Do let me, mamma!" she said, at last. "It 
 seems as if we ought to help all we can." 
 
 "I cannot say yes without consulting her 
 father," said Mrs. Hamilton, at last. "If you 
 will wait long enough for me to send a telegram 
 and get a reply, I will agree to do as he says." 
 
 "I shall be deeply grateful to you, and will 
 willingly wait. It will not be necessary to leave 
 within less than two hours, at any rate," said the 
 General, looking at his watch. "There is nothing 
 more from here until five o'clock this afternoon; 
 but there is a train that passes Kingford at two 
 o'clock, due in Boston at a quarter of four. We 
 are too late now to catch the twelve-fifteen at 
 Kingford. That gets in at one-fifty-five, but we 
 are twenty miles away, and we can't do it in 
 an hour. It is a quarter of eleven now. In the 
 mean-time I will send Thomas to the hotel to see 
 if any suspicious character has been staying there. 
 Mrs. Hamilton, if you will lend me Miss Betty for 
 this journey, you will have my undying gratitude 
 and friendship. It may come to nothing. I may 
 
 234
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 have lost him again, but you will have helped 
 me." 
 
 He turned away, unable to command his voice, 
 and, signing to Betty to get into the carriage, 
 Mrs. Hamilton told Cha rl es to drive quickly to 
 the village that she migau telegraph to his father.
 
 IT is probable that Christopher Lovel would 
 never have carried out his half-formed inten- 
 tion of leaving his grandfather's home had not 
 George Smith visited Maybury Centre at just that 
 time. The boy's whole mind and nature were in 
 a state of indecision and unrest, for in addition to 
 the sense of injury which he felt in regard to his 
 father, he had begun to resent, although uncon- 
 sciously, the lack of independent action which 
 General Keith insisted upon. He was still very 
 childish in many ways, but he was growing older. 
 He wished to be older; he felt an intense desire 
 to assert himself, to act like a man. There seem- 
 ed to be no surer way of accomplishing this than 
 to run away and earn his own living. It is prob- 
 able that all boys feel this longing for freedom 
 at times; it is part of their development. In 
 Christopher's case there was much to foster the 
 feeling, little to restrain it. 
 
 And just at this critical moment George Smith 
 appeared in Maybury George Smith, who repre- 
 sented to Christopher the personification of suc- 
 
 236
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 cess in the matter of earning one's living at an 
 early age. It seemed most opportune. Chris had 
 seen George in the village on the day of his return 
 to Maybury. He had questioned him closely, and 
 finally had said that he wished to try the same 
 line of work himself. Could George help him to 
 get a place? George had been rather discourag- 
 ing at first. He had advised him to stay where 
 he was, and had told him that he would "take 
 no hand" in helping him to leave his home. The 
 two boys were in front of the Maybury House, 
 the one hotel of the village, when they had this 
 conversation. Chris was on his pony, and Ben, 
 the groom, had taken the opportunity to seek an 
 acquaintance in the hotel while his young master 
 talked with his friend. When Ben came out he 
 was accompanied by a man who had arrived at 
 the hotel the night before, and who was already 
 popular there. The stranger, who had entered his 
 name as W. Banks, of New York, was apparent- 
 ly an old friend of Ben's. As they stood together 
 on the steps of the hotel Mr. Banks casually asked 
 the name of the "young fellow" who was talking 
 to "young Lovel," and Ben was able to give him 
 the necessary information with much in addition. 
 Mr. Banks watched Christopher and the groom 
 ride away, and then he sauntered up the road in 
 the direction in which George had gone. A few 
 minutes later, as George seemed to be walking 
 
 237
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 slowly, he quickened his pace until he had over- 
 taken the boy and greeted him cordially. He 
 asked him a civil question or two about the 
 country, and in a very short time had renewed 
 the acquaintance formed at the circus and which 
 bade fair to become intimate. George had few 
 friends in Maybury, but he was not by nature 
 unsociable. If any one showed a desire to be 
 friendly he was ready to respond, but he was 
 equally quick to resent a fancied slight. The 
 result of their walk together was that Mr. Banks 
 soon learned all that there was to be known about 
 Christopher's wish to leave home and make his 
 fortune, and George's own prospects of the same 
 happy result for himself if he could find the right 
 thing. Was there any chance for him in circus 
 work? 
 
 Mr. Banks was apparently of a most optimistic 
 turn of mind. He declared that selling books and 
 papers on the train was a profession that held 
 promise of most desirable results. He himself 
 was deeply interested in "young fellows," and 
 his business now was such that he employed a 
 number. He did not go into particulars as to 
 the nature of his business. He had left the circus 
 himself for something else, and he was at that 
 moment looking out for a boy to do office work. 
 The salary was not much at first, but faithful 
 attention was sure to be rewarded. He had liked 
 
 238
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the looks of young Lovel, and if George chose to 
 do so he could bring him to Boston, and Mr. 
 Banks would interview him there and explain 
 what he needed. 
 
 "Better not say anything to him now. If he 
 feels that he'd like train work it might upset him 
 to think about office work till he got there. Just 
 tell him you have a friend who can help him to 
 a place. You needn't mention my name it's 
 Banks, by-the-way and if you should see me on 
 the train you needn't say you know me. Kids 
 little ones is queer cattle, and he'll be kind of 
 upset, anyway, running away from home. I'll 
 make it all smooth for you if he's the boy I want 
 for my work, as I think he is. You'll get ten per 
 cent, of the deal." 
 
 George did not clearly understand this offer, 
 but hesitated to acknowledge an ignorance of 
 which he felt somewhat ashamed. It was evi- 
 dently an affair of business, a common trans- 
 action with which he was expected to be familiar. 
 He certainly would ask no questions that might 
 expose him to ridicule. He was in great fear of 
 ridicule. He agreed, therefore, to everything that 
 was suggested, and when he saw Christopher that 
 afternoon he told him that if he really wished 
 to go, he, George, could help him to "a job." 
 Mr. Banks informed George that same evening 
 that it would be to the advantage of all parties 
 
 I6 239
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 if they left Maybury the following morning, so 
 George walked up to Keith Hall and told Chris- 
 topher, with the result that we have seen. The 
 three left Maybury on the same train, but without 
 the slightest sign of recognition having been ex- 
 changed by Mr. Banks and George. It was a 
 distinct shock to Mr. Banks when he encountered 
 the keen eyes of Miss Betty Hamilton, of New 
 York. He saw at once that she remembered him, 
 and he congratulated himself more than once 
 during the journey to Boston that she had not 
 discovered him sooner. It convinced him that 
 he would better accomplish his scheme of abduct- 
 ing Christopher if he kept entirely out of his way 
 for the present. Once get the boy to a large 
 city, and he could easily manage it without danger 
 of discovery. And then it would be a simple 
 matter to make known to the rich old General 
 that a large sum of money would restore to him 
 his grandson. Mr. W. Banks had long cherished 
 this ambition. When he was thwarted in its ac- 
 complishment in Hoboken he had by no means 
 acknowledged himself beaten. On the contrary, 
 he became more than ever determined to carry it 
 to a successful finish. He considered it not only 
 an easy but an interesting method of fortune- 
 making far more attractive than the profes- 
 sion of "clerking" or "counter-jumping" or other 
 humdrum but honest means of livelihood, or the 
 
 240
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 more exciting profession of wriggling out of ropes 
 at a circus, and more sure of good results than 
 counterfeiting and safe-smashing, which he had 
 also tried. 
 
 "The old man will give at least a million to get 
 the kid back," he said to himself, "and it will be 
 to his interest to keep it dark. I'm a made man 
 this time. It's wonderful how things have just 
 worked right. Smith's an easy one. Everything 
 going as slick and smooth as silk." 
 
 But once more Mr. Banks had reckoned without 
 Miss Betty of New York. 
 
 Christopher and George Smith, seated together 
 in the rear car of a train that consisted at present 
 of only two passenger coaches and one combina- 
 tion smoking and baggage car, had little to say 
 to each other until some miles of their journey 
 had been travelled. George was not a very 
 talkative person at any time, and Chris, this morn- 
 ing, had so much to occupy his mind that he, too, 
 was very silent. As the train began to move, as 
 it left the familiar Maybury Centre station, and 
 approaching the lake with a shrill shriek for the 
 grade crossing that was to be passed, with rapidly 
 increasing speed rumbled over the trestle and flew 
 along the embankment where Chris and Betty 
 and Lucy Smith had met with an exciting advent- 
 ure last summer as he felt himself being carried 
 away from the well-known neighborhood that was 
 
 241
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 now his home, out into the big world again, where 
 he had already suffered more pain and hardship 
 than usually come to a boy of his age and station 
 in life, Chris felt a sudden and overwhelming de- 
 pression. What had he done? Where was he 
 going? And should he ever see his grandfather 
 again his grandfather, whom he truly loved, in 
 spite of the sense of injury and resentment which 
 had so absorbed his mind during the last few 
 weeks? 
 
 Christopher's eyes were full of tears. He longed 
 to get out of the train and go home again. If it 
 would only stop! Instead it rushed faster and 
 faster through miles of woodland. The thick 
 masses of trees but added to his bewilderment and 
 regret. He stared at them through the blinding 
 tears. He wondered if George would notice if 
 he got out his handkerchief to wipe his eyes. He 
 did not wish George to see that he was crying. 
 It was so like a baby to cry, and he intended to 
 be quite grown up now. He must be, if he was 
 to earn his living like a man. He wondered if 
 George ever cried, and then he remembered how 
 he and Betty had met George in the road after 
 Mrs. Smith, his mother died, and he had cried. 
 Leaving home was almost as bad as having some- 
 body die, Chris thought. If his grandfather were 
 to die before he went back? Went back! He was 
 not going back at least, not for a very long time. 
 
 242
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 He resolutely fought down the tears, and after 
 awhile he had succeeded sufficiently for him to turn 
 to George and ask him some questions about the 
 means that he should take to get a position. 
 George answered, evasively. He thought it was 
 about time for Christopher to meet his future 
 employer, but he could not suggest this until he 
 had consulted Mr. Banks. George felt a deep 
 respect for Mr. Banks, and dared not act without 
 his approval. He made some excuse to Chris- 
 topher told him he was going forward for a 
 smoke, and left him to stay where he was. 
 
 "You're not used to going through the train 
 like I am," said he. "We're making time now. 
 You'd better keep where you are, with your lame 
 leg." 
 
 "But if I go into the newspaper and book busi- 
 ness, like you, on trains, I'll have to go through 
 them when they're going fast," said Chris. 
 "Wouldn't it be a good idea for me to get used to 
 it and go along with you now?" 
 
 " No," said George, decidedly; "you stay where 
 you're put. I ain't going to have no accident on 
 my hands. And maybe you won't do no railroad 
 work. I've heard of something else." And then, 
 fearful that he might be led into imparting more 
 definite information, George hastened "forward," 
 to enjoy the pleasures of a smoke in the society of 
 that fascinating man of the world, Mr. W. Banks. 
 
 243
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 That gentleman was not yet ready, apparently, 
 to make the acquaintance of his future office boy. 
 
 "Time enough, time enough!" said he, easily. 
 "Kids little ones is queer cattle. You take 
 him along with you, and you keep him till I give 
 you the tip. Then you can bring him to my 
 place to-morrow or next day, it '11 be and we'll 
 fix up everything. Suppose we say to-morrow 
 morning at about ten o'clock." 
 
 "But I've got to get to work," objected George. 
 "I've got to find a job, and I guess as long as I've 
 come back I'll tiy for it right off or I won't find 
 anything. What's the matter with bringin' Chris 
 to your place this afternoon?" 
 
 "All right," said Mr. Banks, with his usual 
 affability. It was just what he had planned, but 
 he considered it advisable to let George suggest 
 these things. He had already calculated the 
 length of time that must elapse before General 
 Keith should start in pursuit. .From his friend 
 Ben he had learned the breakfast-hour and the 
 daily customs at Keith Hall, and had reasoned 
 that the General could not take the nine o'clock 
 train. He would certainly reach Boston that 
 evening, however, and Banks knew that it would 
 be well to have Christopher in his own keeping 
 before the boy's grandfather could interview 
 Smith. It would be easy enough to leave town 
 with him before the search began. 
 
 244
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 So it was arranged that Smith should bring 
 Christopher to a certain address in Boston at 
 three o'clock that afternoon, and that until that 
 time the boy should remain in ignorance of even 
 the existence of Mr. Banks. This settled, George 
 returned to his seat beside Christopher, and Mr. 
 Banks was left to his own reflections. 
 
 If any one had happened to be watching him, 
 that person would have quickly reached the con- 
 clusion that his reflections were not altogether 
 satisfactory. A sudden thought seemed to come 
 to him that was disturbing. After a little while 
 he drew a package of time-tables from his pocket 
 and began to study them. Then he put them 
 away again and gazed out of the window. At 
 last he seemed to reach a decision. He drew his 
 hat well down over his eyes it was a soft felt 
 hat, and lent itself easily to a variety of shapes, 
 and with the brim turned down it hid completely 
 the upper part of his face. This done, he rose and 
 walked through the train to the last car. He 
 passed through it without appearing to notice 
 any of the passengers. He went to the door, and 
 stood looking out at the track as the train sped 
 on its way. They would soon reach the junction 
 where additional cars would be taken on. After 
 a few minutes he turned and walked slowly back. 
 As he passed the seat occupied by George and 
 Christopher he put out his hand as if to steady 
 
 245
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 himself. In doing so he pressed George's shoulder 
 steadily and significantly. Then he walked on 
 and through to the next car. In a few minutes 
 George followed him. 
 
 "You're a bright one," said Banks. He had 
 already discovered that George was susceptible to 
 flattery. "I just thought I'd try you and see if 
 you'd ketch on. Not every feller would have 
 kept as quiet as you did and then follow to see 
 what was wanted. I tell you now, I'll remem- 
 ber this, and if you don't find a job on the rail- 
 road which is what you want and what you're 
 cut out for if ever a feller was you just come to 
 me and I'll fix you. You're just the sort of feller 
 I'm always looking out for." 
 
 "I thought p'r'aps you wanted to say some- 
 thing," said George, much pleased with this praise. 
 
 "Well, as long as you're here, I'll say it, but it 
 wasn't so very important. What I did want was 
 to see if you'd ketch on, and I can say you caught 
 yes, you caught. I'm thinking it would be a 
 little mite easier for us all if we was to meet in 
 the North Station this afternoon instead of your 
 coming way to my place. What's the use of 
 taking your time to come? You're a busy man, 
 just as I am. You bring the kid to the station, 
 or you tell him to come and you'll meet him 
 there. Then you can introduce him to me, and 
 I'll tell him what I've got for him to do." 
 
 246
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "What's the matter with introducing him 
 now?" asked George. He could not quite un- 
 derstand the necessity for all these elaborate 
 proceedings. It would seem so simple a matter 
 to make all the necessary arrangements on the 
 train. 
 
 "Because I find I've got to change at the 
 junction," replied Banks, who had prepared him- 
 self for just this question. "I've got business on 
 the other branch, and I won't reach Boston as 
 early as you do. I've got to stop over, and then 
 I'll take the next train. You have the boy at 
 the North Station at 2 P.M. You have him stand- 
 ing by the information office, right there in the 
 big waiting-room. You know it. If you can't 
 be there yourself I know you're a busy man 
 you just leave him, or tell him to go there and 
 wait. I'll tell him about his job, and then I'll 
 take him to my place, and he can see how he 
 likes it. Where's the kid going to live, anyhow?" 
 
 "He's going shares in my room." George 
 mentioned his address. 
 
 "Well, that won't be very convenient, but he 
 may as well begin there and I can fix him later. 
 I have a sort of an idea I'm going to like that 
 kid take a fancy to him, same as I have to you. 
 That's my way. I take a fancy, and there ain't 
 anything I don't feel like doing for a young feller. 
 Help 'em right along. Well, here's the junction. 
 
 247
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 You go back and tell little Lovel all about it, 
 and you have him standing by the informa- 
 tion office in the waiting-room at two o'clock 
 sharp." 
 
 So George returned to Christopher much pleased 
 to be allowed at last to impart the plans which his 
 kind friend had made for the boy's welfare, and 
 Christopher listened eagerly and agreed to do 
 just as he was directed. And Mr. Banks, much 
 pleased himself with his own cleverness, left the 
 May bury train at the junction, and after waiting 
 there fifteen minutes, took another train which 
 would get him to Boston half an hour later than 
 the one he left. He would have plenty of time 
 to make all the necessary arrangements for the 
 hiding of Christopher in Boston, or for carrying 
 him to some other place if that seemed more 
 advisable after consultation with a trusted col- 
 league. His study of the tune-tables had proved 
 to him that General Keith, even if he started at 
 once in pursuit of his grandson, could not reach 
 Boston until three o'clock. Banks knew all about 
 the two-o'clock train on the other road which the 
 General would probably try to make. He flat- 
 tered himself that he had allowed for every con- 
 tingency. But there was one thing which he had 
 forgotten, one possibility which he had omitted 
 to take into consideration, and that was that 
 sometimes the unforeseen happens. And the un- 
 
 248
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 foreseen was at that moment "happening" in 
 Maybury Centre. 
 
 The Hamiltons had just reached home, a reply 
 from Mr. Hamilton had been received, and prep- 
 arations were being hurriedly made for Betty 
 and Gertrude to take a journey, when the "honk- 
 honk" of an automobile was heard, and up the 
 steep driveway which led to the old farm-house 
 puffed a big touring-car. There was no one on 
 the piazza when it approached, but the unwonted 
 sounds brought Betty to the window. With a 
 shout of delight she rushed through the house. 
 
 "Mamma! Mamma! Aunt Edith and Uncle 
 Lu have come! They're in the motor at the 
 door! Hurrah! Hurrah! Three cheers!" 
 
 " I never was so thankful in my life to see you!" 
 cried Mrs. Hamilton, who reached the door almost 
 as soon as Betty did, and was closely followed by 
 Pauline, while Charles came dashing around the 
 side of the house. "Really your coming now 
 seems providential. We didn't expect you for 
 two weeks." 
 
 "We changed our plans very unexpectedly," 
 said Mrs. Lewis, unwinding her veils and proceed- 
 ing to kiss her assembled relatives. "We thought 
 we would come here at the beginning instead of 
 the end of this part of our trip, and it would be 
 fun to take you by surprise. If you haven't room 
 
 249
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 for us now we can go to Keith Hall. The General 
 will probably take us in." 
 
 "Oh, my dear! The poor General but do 
 come sit down. Ludovic, I am so thankful to 
 see you! We need your advice and help. Char- 
 lie isn't here, and such a strange thing has hap- 
 pened." 
 
 "Chris has gone off, Uncle Lu," put in Betty. 
 
 "Gone off? When? What do you mean?" 
 Mr. Lewis, who had been deep in the mysteries 
 of the interior of his automobile, straightened 
 himself, and looked from one to the other. 
 
 They told him, all speaking at once and inter- 
 rupting one another, after the manner of a family 
 in which something quite unusual has occurred, 
 but he finally understood what had happened. 
 
 "And I am going with General Keith to find 
 him, because I know the man by sight," said 
 Betty. "Gertrude and I. Gertrude is going be- 
 cause we may be gone for some time, and mamma 
 won't let me go without her, but I could get along 
 very well. We are going to drive over to King- 
 ford to take a train. General Keith is going to 
 send for us, but we have to take a slow train in- 
 stead of a fast one because Kingford is twenty 
 miles away from Keith Hall, and we can't get 
 there in time. Oh, Uncle Lu, I've just thought 
 of a scheme ! Why don't you take us over in the 
 motor? We could get that fast train if you did." 
 
 250
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "What time does it leave Kingford?" asked 
 Mr. Lewis, looking at his watch, and then hurriedly 
 resuming his examination of his car. 
 
 "Twelve-fifteen." 
 
 "And it is now half-past eleven. We'll do it. 
 Quick, Betty!" 
 
 Betty was seated in the car with a jacket over 
 her arm, her bag at her feet, and a big veil, which 
 her aunt Edith had just taken off, tied over her 
 head, in almost less time than it takes to tell it; 
 but Gertrude was not so swift in her movements. 
 She was very much averse to taking this unex- 
 pected journey, at any rate, and the thought of 
 being whirled away in an automobile to cover 
 more than twenty miles in half an hour was more 
 than she could endure. She expostulated, pro- 
 tested, and lost much valuable time. 
 
 "Oh, let Betty go without Gertrude," suggested 
 Mr. Lewis. "Very likely we shall be back to- 
 night. I will look after her, and we can engage 
 a maid at any hotel we may stop at. I shall go 
 with them to Boston, Edith." 
 
 " Of course," said Mrs. Lewis. "Really, Bessie, 
 it is all right to let Betty go without Gertrude." 
 
 "Very well," said Mrs. Hamilton, "if Ludovic 
 is going." 
 
 And then, with hasty farewells, away they went, 
 down the hill and off over the country road, leav- 
 ing behind them dense clouds of dust, and terrify- 
 
 251
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 ing all the old farm horses they chanced to meet. 
 They turned in at the gates of Keith Hall just 
 as the General's carriage, with a pair of his fastest 
 horses, came out of the stable. It did not take 
 long to explain the new situation. General Keith 
 and Thomas stepped into the motor-car, and it 
 dashed away. The road from Maybury to King- 
 ford was a good one for that mountainous region, 
 and if all went well they would arrive in Kingford 
 in plenty of time to put the car up at a garage 
 and take the twelve-fifteen train for Boston. 
 
 "I have always disliked these obnoxious ma- 
 chines," said General Keith, leaning forward and 
 raising his voice; "as you know, I have felt very 
 strongly that they were the most dangerous, the 
 most objectionable form which human invention 
 has yet assumed; but I begin to think they have 
 their uses, after all." 
 
 Ludovic Lewis did not reply beyond a nod of 
 his head, but Betty, who was sitting beside him, 
 looked up in tune to see a smile of satisfaction 
 spread over his handsome face. 
 
 "That's one for you, Uncle Lu," she said. 
 
 She and her uncle were now the best of friends, 
 although this had not always been the case, and 
 she was delighted that he was to be one of the 
 party to rescue Chris. It was all very exciting, 
 and Betty was immensely pleased with the way 
 things were turning out. A railroad journey, 
 
 252
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 an automobile ride at high speed, and jolly Uncle 
 Ludovic instead of strict Gertrude! It was all 
 very fine for Miss Betty. She felt no anxiety 
 about Christopher, being confident that she and 
 her uncle together would be more than a match 
 for the "Fascinating Feinando."
 
 XVI 
 
 ALL went well. There were no punctured 
 jL\. tires, no breakdowns, no delays of any kind. 
 The big touring-car whirled up to the station at 
 Kingford without having encountered an acci- 
 dent or a constable, its occupants alighted, and 
 while Thomas went in to buy tickets for the 
 party, Mr. Lewis drove to a garage not far away, 
 and then, coming quickly back, joined his uncle 
 and niece just as the train puffed into the station. 
 Kingford was a town of considerable size, with 
 paved streets and brick buildings, and of suffi- 
 cient importance for all the express trains to stop 
 there. It was on the main line of the railroad 
 and the direct route to Boston, and very soon the 
 travellers were seated in a parlor-car with the 
 satisfactory assurance that they had caught their 
 train and were due to arrive in Boston, without 
 further change, more than two hours earlier than 
 a little while ago they had supposed possible. 
 Another good thing was the fact that Ludovic 
 Lewis was with them. General Keith realized 
 this morning, as he had never done before, that 
 
 254
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 he was growing older. He was a good deal shak- 
 en by Christopher's hasty and secret departure. 
 He was cut to the quick by it, and now that he 
 had time to think, it was a great comfort to him 
 that Ludovic was there to help and to advise, and 
 to decide quickly in any emergency that might 
 arise. The proud old man, contrary to his usual 
 custom, spoke freely to the younger one. 
 
 "I insisted that he should change his name, 
 Ludovic. I shouldn't have done that. Nobody 
 could have induced me to give up my own name. 
 I should have remembered that. And then the 
 boy heard something. He heard that that I 
 couldn't forgive Emily. He doesn't know how 
 deeply I have regretted my harshness. I was 
 younger then, and my nature was more bitter, 
 harder, sterner. Now I see things in another 
 light, and my little boy has unconsciously taught 
 me how we ought to live in peace and good 
 will with all, even with those who have wronged 
 us. But there was something to be said on both 
 sides, Ludovic." 
 
 "Of course, uncle. There always is." 
 
 "But I am not excusing myself. She was my 
 daughter, and I should have forgiven her. I in- 
 tended atoning for it with her boy, and now he 
 has gone away." 
 
 "We shall find him, and before night. Don't 
 worry, uncle. It will all come out right." And 
 
 17 255
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 privately Ludovic wondered to see how his cold, 
 proud uncle had softened, and he pitied him the 
 more, for it showed what he was suffering. 
 
 The train was on time, and precisely at ten 
 minutes of two it glided into the Boston terminal. 
 As the party walked quickly along the station 
 platform, Betty between General Keith and her 
 uncle, and Thomas and a porter following with 
 the bags and wraps, two men who were waiting 
 near the exit moved forward a few steps. Mr. 
 Lewis stopped and spoke to them, and after a 
 brief conversation they parted again. He re- 
 joined his family, and they mingled with the 
 crowd that entered the waiting-room. 
 
 "The detectives I telegraphed for, uncle," said 
 Ludovic. "They advise us to work very care- 
 fully first to hunt up George Smith, and see if 
 Chris is with him. If he is not, we are to discover 
 in some way whether Betty's Hoboken friend has 
 had a hand in it. He may not have, you know. 
 That may have been merely a coincidence. Sup- 
 pose we go into the waiting-room for a few min- 
 utes. You and Betty can sit there while I find 
 out something about Smith. As he is a news- 
 boy on the trains, he will be coming into the sta- 
 tion sooner or later, and we perhaps can get him 
 more quickly than by going to the address that 
 Thomas got from the aunt in Maybury. He 
 wouldn't be there until night. We will go sit 
 
 256
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 down, and then one of the detectives is coming 
 to join us, so that Betty can give him an exact 
 description of her Hoboken friend, both the way 
 he looked then and as he does now." 
 
 They had entered the large waiting-room, and 
 soon found seats. Betty did as she was told, and 
 described with great exactness the past and 
 present aspect of Mr. Banks, although she did not 
 know him by that name. They were seated in 
 a row not very far from the information office, 
 which was a booth almost in the centre of the 
 room. At times a long line of persons awaited 
 their turn to ask for "information" regarding the 
 trains, at other times' no one was at the window. 
 The detective was standing in front of Betty. 
 As she turned from him to answer a question of 
 General Keith's, she gave an exclamation and 
 started to her feet; 
 
 "There he is! There's" 
 
 "Sit right down!" commanded the detective. 
 "Don't show yourself." 
 
 "But it's Chris himself!" said Betty, reluc- 
 tantly obeying him. 
 
 "Never mind. All the better. Tell me where 
 without looking that way.'' 
 
 "Chris himself!" repeated General Keith. He 
 also attempted to rise. 
 
 "You must keep quiet," said the detective, 
 whose name was Taylor. "I believe this is all 
 
 257
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 a carefully laid scheme to abduct your grand- 
 son, General Keith, by the same man who, from 
 what this young lady tells me, tried to do it be- 
 fore. It will be to your future advantage to 
 have him shut up, or he will be after him again, 
 so we must get him this time. Now, young 
 lady, tell me, without looking at him, where the 
 boy is." 
 
 "He's standing by that place where people go 
 to ask questions. He's got his back turned to 
 us. I don't believe he has seen us at all." 
 
 "So much the better." Taylor had been talk- 
 ing in a low voice, but without any appearance 
 of mystery. He now glanced about the waiting- 
 room without allowing his eyes to rest longer in 
 one place than another. 
 
 "A slight boy with light hair? Wears a little 
 gray cap?" 
 
 "Yes, yes!" exclaimed the General. "There 
 he is. I see him myself." 
 
 The line had moved on from the information 
 office, and Chris now stood there alone. He was 
 gazing toward the doors which opened upon the 
 street. The ever-changing throng within the 
 station made but little impression upon him. 
 He had been told that Banks would be in Boston, 
 and would join him soon after two o'clock and 
 take him to his office, which was not far away. 
 He therefore directed his attention entirely to 
 
 258
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the doors by which a man already in the city 
 would naturally enter. 
 
 "He is evidently waiting for some one/' said 
 Ludovic. "I think Mr. Taylor is right, uncle. 
 We want to make sure of that man this tune. 
 If it proves to be Smith who comes for Chris no 
 harm will be done. If it isn't " 
 
 "There's somebody now!" exclaimed Betty. 
 "And it isn't either of them." 
 
 A man had walked up to Christopher and said 
 something to him. The boy answered, and ap- 
 peared to be questioning the new-comer. He 
 still stood with his back toward his friends, who 
 were all eagerly watching. Then he stooped, 
 picked up his bag, which he had placed upon the 
 floor, and walked away with the stranger toward 
 the door of the station. 
 
 "Come," said the detective. He walked in 
 front, with Mr. Lewis, Betty, and the General 
 close behind. They quickened their footsteps, so 
 that by the time Christopher and his companion 
 reached the sidewalk they were very near. 
 
 "I'll give you a nice automobile ride," they 
 heard the man say. 
 
 "Is it far to the office?" asked Christopher. 
 
 "Quite a little way, but you won't mind that. 
 This way." His guide led him along the side- 
 walk toward the end of the big station. An auto- 
 mobile was drawn up at the curbstone. The man 
 
 259
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 in the chauffeur's seat, in a soft hat drawn well 
 down over his face, looked neither to the right 
 nor the left as they approached. Betty was now 
 walking beside her uncle. She glanced curiously 
 at the automobile and at the chauffeur. 
 
 " Oh !" she exclaimed. " Quick ! There he is 
 Hoboken man in the motor!" 
 
 Taylor signed to the party to wait. He moved 
 quickly forward, joined by the other officer, who 
 appeared from some other quarter. A police- 
 man stood on the corner. Christopher's com- 
 panion opened the door of the automobile. "In 
 with you!" he said. Still the chauffeur did not 
 look up. 
 
 Christopher's foot was on the step when he felt 
 himself picked up by some one behind him, who 
 took him by the arms, lifted him high in the air, 
 and then set him down on the pavement again 
 several paces away. He looked up in bewilder- 
 ment, to find himself standing by .his grandfather, 
 with his cousin Ludovic, who had carried him, 
 close behind him. He was too much amazed to 
 say a word. He looked at the automobile. Two 
 men had jumped into it, and two policemen stood 
 beside it. 
 
 "They've got him!" exclaimed Betty. "The 
 Hoboken man, Chris, the ' Fascinating Fer- 
 nando.' They've got him tight. Oh, I hope 
 they'll hold on to him and not let him wriggle 
 
 260
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 away from them! They ought to know how 
 well he wriggles!" 
 
 "Why, Betty! Are you here?" Chris turned 
 and looked at her. "What does it all mean? 
 How did you get here? And and " He turn- 
 ed again and looked at his grandfather, who had 
 not spoken a word. "Oh, grand, dear grand, 
 did you come after me? Oh, I am so glad! And 
 I'm sorry I did it. I'm so glad to see you 
 again." 
 
 Still the General said nothing, but he held out 
 his hand. Christopher took it in his own. It 
 was long before he would let it go. Clinging to 
 his arm, they walked back into the waiting-room. 
 
 Presently Ludovic Lewis joined them. 
 
 "Well, Betty," said he, "you have done some 
 good work ! If it hadn't been for you, we shouldn't 
 have managed it all so easily and neatly. With 
 your aid the detectives have nabbed a man they 
 have been after for some time a man who is 
 wanted for making counterfeit money, and writ- 
 ing some one else's name, and a few other charm- 
 ing little affairs. It seems he has been in prison 
 in New York until last spring, and was wanted 
 in Boston for something he did here after he got 
 out, but he has kept carefully out of the way until 
 to-day. In his desire to make a fortune out of 
 uncle he walked right into the trap. He will be 
 -shut up now, uncle, for a sufficient number of 
 
 261
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 years for Chris to grow up and be able to take 
 care of himself." 
 
 "What does it all mean?" asked Christopher. 
 "Was that man trying to run away with me 
 again?" 
 
 ' ' That is j ust what he was doing. He evidently 
 visited May bury for no other purpose." 
 
 "But I hadn't seen him before," said Chris. 
 "I came away with Geor I didn't come with 
 that man." 
 
 "You came with George Smith," said Betty, 
 finishing the sentence for him. "You needn't 
 think we don't know that. And if George is a 
 friend of that Hoboken man, I don't think much 
 of him. And, Chris, I'm sure he was ' Fascinat- 
 ing Fernando' at the circus. I couldn't think 
 whom he reminded me of at the time, but now 
 I'm sure. Why, Chris, I don't see how you 
 could help recognizing that man. He has such 
 queer big ears and such jiggly eyes. They go 
 jumping about so, and never look at you. I 
 knew him the minute I saw him at Maybury this 
 morning, even though he did have on that queer- 
 looking beard." 
 
 "Was he really at Maybury?" 
 
 "Yes, and left there on your train." 
 
 "Uncle, we can get back to-night," said 
 Ludovic, "and I think it would be advisable, 
 don't you? If we are wanted in court we can 
 
 262
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 come to Boston again. There is a train some- 
 where around four o'clock. In the mean time, 
 wouldn't it be well to get something to eat? 
 Those sandwiches we had on the road were not 
 altogether filling." 
 
 He thought it was time to create a diversion, 
 for Christopher's face showed marks of fatigue. 
 He had been through a long day of excitement 
 which had begun at a very early hour, and he. 
 had had but little food. Ludovic did not know 
 all this, but his keen, kind eyes detected the 
 boy's exhaustion. And presently, when they 
 were all seated at table, he kept them laughing 
 with his absurd remarks and high spirits until 
 they had forgotten for a time the events which 
 had led to the journey to Boston. He knew 
 that General Keith had been very much affected 
 by all this, and that the narrow escape of his 
 grandson from grave danger had made a profound 
 impression upon the old man. Ludovic deter- 
 mined to have a conversation with Christopher 
 himself. He felt that he could speak to him 
 more clearly and forcibly, and with greater effect, 
 perhaps, than could the General. It was very 
 plain that the boy did not in the least realize his 
 duty to his grandfather. But all this must be 
 deferred until they were safely back in Maybury. 
 
 Chris did not talk much while they were at 
 table. It was evident that he was thinking deep- 
 
 263
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 ly, that something was troubling him which was 
 not the sense of his narrow escape. Ludovic's 
 impression was justified when the boy came to his 
 side as they left the restaurant. 
 
 "Cousin Ludovic," he said, "I want to speak 
 to you. I would rather no one else heard." 
 
 "All right, Chris. We'll manage it. We will 
 go buy some fruit to take up to Maybury. There 
 is a fruit store not very far from the station. 
 That will give us a chance to talk. Uncle," he 
 said, raising his voice, "if you and Betty will go 
 sit down in the waiting-room for a few minutes, 
 Chris and I will make some purchases we want 
 for our relatives in Maybury." 
 
 "Oh, let me go with you!" exclaimed Betty. 
 
 "I cannot think of allowing Christopher out 
 of my sight now," protested General Keith. 
 
 "Why, Christopher has never been so safe as 
 he is at this minute, uncle. He could probably 
 go all over Boston alone, now that his particular 
 friend from Hoboken is safely stowed away in 
 the patrol wagon with three stout policemen to 
 guard him. And I think you can trust him with 
 me, sir." 
 
 "Of course I can. I spoke without thinking." 
 
 "But you will stay with the General, Betty. 
 We don't want to leave him all alone, and Thomas 
 is off somewhere. Yes, Betty, please do as I ask." 
 
 So Betty sat down beside the General with as 
 
 264
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 good a grace as possible in the face of a disin- 
 clination to do what she was requested. It was 
 very poky to sit by] the taciturn General when 
 jolly Uncle Lu was taking Chris on a private ex- 
 pedition to the shops. 
 
 "We shall not be gone long," said Ludovic. 
 "Only across the way to buy peaches. You're 
 a peach yourself, Betty. You don't need to buy 
 any." 
 
 "Uncle Lu! Well, I'll stay, only I'd rather eat 
 one than be one." 
 
 "We'll bring you some. Come along, Chris. 
 Now, old man," he added, as they walked away, 
 "what do you want to say to me?" 
 
 "It is about George Smith. I don't believe he 
 really had anything to do with that man trying 
 to steal me. I don't want him punished, and I'm 
 afraid grandfather will. I know he's feeling very 
 angry with George. It was all my own fault that 
 I left Maybury I mean it was my own plan. 
 George advised me not to go. Only last night, 
 when he came up to tell me we were to start this 
 morning, he didn't want me to come ; but I wanted 
 to earn my own living, just the way he is doing. 
 I don't think he even knows the Hoboken man." 
 
 "Are you quite sure he doesn't? Was George 
 with you all the time on the train? Didn't he 
 leave you at all?" 
 
 "Why, yes, he didn't stay with me all the time. 
 
 265
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 He went into the smoking-car without me. He 
 said I had better not go through the train while 
 it was going so fast." 
 
 "And was not he the one who directed you to 
 stand by the information office to meet the man 
 who promised to employ you?" 
 
 "Yes, he was. But, oh, I don't want to believe 
 George tried to have me stolen." 
 
 " No, I don't suppose you do. It is not a pleas- 
 ant experience to find that persons we supposed 
 were our good friends have proved that they could 
 not be trusted; but it sometimes happens, all the 
 same. I think we shall have to find out just how 
 much George has had to do with this business. 
 If you will trust me to manage it, Chris, I think 
 I can. I shall have to come to Boston in the 
 course of a day or two about this other man. 
 They will want me for a witness, I suppose, and 
 then I can see George and get at the truth. You 
 can depend upon me, old man. If there's any 
 good in George at all, I'll try and hunt it up. If 
 there isn't, if he's a pretty bad lot, why, it will 
 be as well for you to know it. Will you leave 
 it to me?" 
 
 "Of course I will, Cousin Ludovic. But you 
 tell him, won't you, that I don't think he meant 
 any harm?" 
 
 "Yes, I'll tell him. And now tell me what 
 you think of these peaches. Are they good 
 
 266
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 enough for your cousin Edith and Mrs. Hamil- 
 ton?" 
 
 "I don't think they are/' returned Chris, 
 promptly. 
 
 They had crossed the crowded street and en- 
 tered the little shop. The elevated trains, the 
 subway cars, the heavy drays, the carriages and 
 automobiles united to make a deafening roar, 
 and it was necessary to raise their voices to be 
 heard. The hot summer sun beat down upon 
 the city street, but at that very instant a subtle 
 change crept into the atmosphere. A salt smell 
 mingled with the odor of decaying fruit and dust 
 and smoke, a cool air brought vigor and refresh- 
 ment. An east wind had sprung up, and wilted 
 humanity, refreshed and invigorated, moved more 
 briskly and thought more clearly and rejoiced in 
 the relief, for it had been a very hot day. 
 
 Ludovic and Christopher soon found some fruit 
 that was more to their liking, and then they re- 
 turned to the station, having also provided them- 
 selves with a basket of peaches and pears es- 
 pecially for Betty and also a large box of candy, 
 which was even more pleasing to the young lady 
 in question. And presently they were all seated 
 in the train and were hurrying as fast as steam 
 could carry them back to old Maybury, which 
 they had all left that morning under such different 
 circumstances. 
 
 267
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 Telegrams had been sent before them, and the 
 anxiety of those left at home had been relieved 
 as quickly as possible. Naturally the news of 
 Christopher's departure had spread quickly 
 through the village, for it had rested with Sam 
 Wilson to make it known. Gossip did not linger 
 long in his keeping. His was a generous soul in 
 that respect, and he no sooner heard a piece of 
 news than he imparted it to his neighbor. The 
 tale of his call at Keith Hall had been told with 
 twenty variations before twelve o'clock. When 
 the telegrams began to arrive, hot though the 
 day was, the village assumed an aspect of un- 
 wonted activity for the hour. The station mas- 
 ter, who was also the telegraph operator, and 
 whose name was "Jabe" Tarleton, lost no time 
 in spreading the news of the rescue. He had 
 never felt the necessity for privacy in the matter 
 of telegraphic communication. 
 
 "Gosh!" said he, "what's the use? If a feller 
 talks by wire he's got to expect some other fellow 
 to know what he's talkin' about. Same as postal- 
 cards. Postal-cards is public property. And tel- 
 ephones. If the telephone ever gets put up in 
 Maybury Centre, and I hope it will, I'll feel I 
 hev the right to set down and listen to whoever 
 happens to be talkin' on the line I happen to hev 
 in my house. It's one of the chances we've all 
 got to take, and we're all born equal." 
 
 oca
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 These being his openly expressed sentiments, 
 it surprised no one when he informed the waiting 
 village that Chris had been found, the scoundrel 
 caught, and the party was to return that even- 
 ing. It would have been a keen disappointment 
 to every one had he not told it. As to the 
 "scoundrel," that, they all decided, was George 
 Smith. No one had ever liked George. He had 
 borne a bad name from his first appearance in 
 Maybury Centre, when his mother took the old 
 house down the lane beyond Toppan Farm. No 
 special act of wrong-doing had ever been traced 
 to George, no one could have explained the 
 origin of his unsavory reputation. It had taken 
 root and grown, fostered at first by his extreme 
 poverty and shabby appearance. When it was 
 found that he was the nephew of Lucetta Smith, 
 who was greatly loved, there were many who for 
 her sake were inclined to overlook the past; but 
 George himself could not forget it, and he had 
 no friendly feelings toward the people of May- 
 bury. He refused to respond, therefore, to their 
 belated advances, and he thus made himself more 
 unpopular than ever. And now something had 
 occurred which caused them all to shake their 
 heads and say, "I told you so!" 
 
 As may be supposed, a number of persons 
 gathered at the little station to watch the arrival 
 of the train from Boston, and those who did not 
 
 269
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 come to the station were seated on the front 
 piazzas of their houses. But all in vain. The 
 train arrived, but the only persons to leave it 
 were one or two local travellers. What could 
 have happened? And the General was evidently 
 not expected, for no carriage had been sent to 
 meet him. Jabe had certainly made a great mis- 
 take. 
 
 And the mystery was not cleared up until the 
 automobile of "that New York feller" dashed 
 through the village an hour later, having left 
 the General and his grandson at Keith Hall on 
 its way from Kingford, and containing only Mr. 
 Lewis himself and his niece Betty Hamilton.
 
 XVII 
 
 " pOOD-NIGHT, my boy," said General Keith. 
 
 \X He spoke quietly, and his face betrayed no 
 emotion. His voice shook slightly. They had 
 finished dinner, which had been eaten with the 
 usual attendant formalities. There had been lit- 
 tle conversation, but Christopher had been so 
 silent of late that this was not particularly 
 noticeable. There was nothing to mark the 
 fact that the day had been remarkable, that the 
 two who sat so quietly at either end of the table 
 had since sunrise passed through many emotions 
 and extremes of feeling. The sun was setting 
 now, a great ball of red in a cloudless west. 
 
 "We shall have another hot day to-morrow," 
 observed the General, walking to the window. 
 Then he turned to Christopher. "You had bet- 
 ter go to bed now. You are tired." 
 
 Chris slipped his hand into his grandfather's, 
 and together they walked to the foot of the 
 stairs. When the General said good-night, Chris 
 let go his hand without a word. He mounted 
 two steps. Then he turned and looked into his 
 
 18 271
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 grandfather's face, with which his own was now 
 on a level. 
 
 "Grand," he said, in a whisper, "can I kiss 
 you?" 
 
 "Of course, Christopher. Do you need to ask 
 permission?" 
 
 "I didn't know. I wasn't sure. Grand, I'm 
 sorry I did it." 
 
 "So am I." 
 
 "I'm sorry because it worried you, but " 
 
 "We'll have no 'buts' to-night, Christopher. 
 We are both tired." 
 
 There was a moment's silence. They stood 
 facing each other with a long, straight gaze, the 
 blue eyes of the boy looking into the dark but 
 faded eyes of the old man. Then Christopher 
 threw his arms about his grandfather's neck and 
 kissed him, and without a word he went up- 
 stairs. General Keith stood watching him. At 
 the top the boy turned and looked down. 
 
 "Good-night, grand," he called. 
 
 "Good-night, boy." 
 
 The boy was soon asleep, but the man's eyes 
 did not close until almost morning. All the even- 
 ing he walked up and down the library, or moved 
 restlessly from one room to another. He could 
 not read, he could only think, and when at last 
 he went to bed, still he could only think. 
 
 The next day at an early hour Ludovic Lewis 
 
 272
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 came to his uncle's house in his automobile and 
 invited Chris to take a ride. The General was 
 still sitting at the breakfast-table, but Chris was 
 at the stable. He was very glad to see Sassafras 
 again. Ben, who had looked after the horse, had 
 left suddenly the day before. The coachman was 
 very much disturbed by his departure. It made 
 him one man short, and such things were very 
 "upsetting." Ben's popularity had waned con- 
 siderable in consequence. Chris was being told 
 about it when he heard the tooting of the auto- 
 mobile horn and ran up to the house to see if his 
 cousin had come. Very soon, the General's per- 
 mission having been obtained, the two were glid- 
 ing out of the big gates and on their way to South 
 May bury." 
 
 "I want to have a talk with you, Chris," said 
 Mr. Lewis, "and that is the reason I didn't bring 
 Betty or any one else, though I think Miss Betty 
 would have liked very much to come. But I 
 knew this would be the only way to see you 
 alone, and there are one or two things, my boy, 
 that I want to say to you. First of all, will you 
 tell me something? Will you tell me what on 
 earth made you run away yesterday? Just start 
 in, and tell me from the beginning. What made 
 you do it?" 
 
 Ludovic Lewis was one of those rare persons 
 who, by a fine, wide charity, see good in all man- 
 
 273
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 kind, and therefore are in turn trusted by all 
 mankind. Saints and sinners alike, we have all 
 one trait in common: we respond to those who 
 trust us, to those who have faith in us we try, al- 
 though perhaps but feebly, to justify that faith, 
 to be worthy of it. And we love the person who 
 believes in us. Ludovic, with his generous nat- 
 ure, his keen sense of humor, his charm of man- 
 ner, was loved by all who knew him, and there 
 was no one more wholly devoted to him than his 
 cousin Christopher, who looked up to him and 
 admired him with all the ardor that a boy can 
 feel for a young man. There was, therefore, no 
 one more fitted to advise him, and no one to 
 whom he would be more willing to open his 
 heart. 
 
 For a few minutes after Ludovic asked the ques- 
 tion there was no reply. He turned and looked 
 down at the childish face and saw that an answer 
 was coming presently. Then he devoted himself 
 to the machine and waited. 
 
 "I went because I thought I ought to," said 
 Chris, at last. "And I'm going again." 
 
 "What do you mean by that?" His cousin's 
 voice was stern. "Have you no regard what- 
 ever for your grandfather? Don't you love him 
 at all?" 
 
 "Why, of course I love him, Cousin Ludovic! 
 I love him dearly." 
 
 274
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 " Don't you feel the least regret for having given 
 him so much anxiety yesterday? Do you realize 
 the danger you were in? Haven't you the slight- 
 est feeling of gratitude at being saved from what 
 might have proved a very terrible fate?" 
 
 "Of course, Cousin Ludovic; but you don't 
 seem to understand. I ran away because grand- 
 father wanted me to give up father's name, and 
 he wasn't kind to father, and so I think I ought 
 to make my own living, and not take grand- 
 father's money or have him support me. If I 
 were very little it might be different, but I am 
 big enough now to work. That's the reason I 
 went. I didn't know that man was going to be 
 around again and get hold of me. You see, he 
 thought I was a rich boy, I suppose. He didn't 
 know that really I'm a very poor boy. But now 
 he's caught and there's no danger from him, so I 
 shall be quite safe. I won't go away next time 
 without telling grandfather. I will tell him just 
 what I am going to do, and explain why I am 
 going. I see now it was wrong not to have ex- 
 plained." 
 
 "See here, Chris," said Ludovic, speaking more 
 gently than he did before, "I think things are 
 all twisted in your mind. I suppose you have 
 been thinking so hard that you're what Betty 
 would call 'all mixed up,' and I want to see if 
 we can't straighten you out a bit. You seem 
 
 275
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 to suppose that your only duty in life is to re- 
 sent the wrong that was done to your father 
 and to earn your own living. Now I think your 
 duty is very different. Shall I tell you what I 
 think?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Well, I think your duty is to the living and 
 not to the dead. By that I don't mean that you 
 ought to try to forget your father, but you ought 
 to try to forget any wrong that was done him if 
 the person who did it is sorry about it, and that 
 your grandfather most certainly is. As to the 
 name, I agree with you. I should not give up 
 my father's name for any amount of money. I 
 think you are right there, and I am quite sure 
 my uncle is not going to urge it any more; in 
 fact, he told me so, so that need not come into 
 the discussion at all. We will put that right out 
 of our minds. But you have a big duty which 
 you don't seem to see. You have but one near 
 relative in the world, and he is an old man who 
 loves you very dearly. You want to leave him 
 to a solitary and sorrowful old age, just so that 
 you can carry out your idea of being independent. 
 We can't all be independent. Most of us would 
 like to, but most of us have ties and claims of 
 some kind that must be attended to. Your 
 grandfather is yours. Remember what a lonely 
 little chap you were this time last year! Your 
 
 276
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 cousin Edith has told me how you used to long 
 for relations of your own." 
 
 "I know/' said Chris, in a low voice. 
 
 "And there is still another point. You have 
 no right to shirk the responsibility of your grand- 
 father's money. It is right and proper, by the 
 law of every civilized country, that you should 
 inherit your grandfather's money. At the same 
 tune, it is up to you to learn how to take care of 
 it how to do good with it. Do you think you 
 are going to learn how to be a good millionaire if 
 you should spend your boyhood selling papers 
 or blacking boots or running errands? There 
 are good newsboys and good bootblacks and 
 good errand boys, and I honor and respect all 
 boys who make an honest living in those ways, 
 but I shouldn't honor and respect a boy who 
 shirked larger duties and responsibilities for the 
 sake of having his own way and doing as he 
 liked. When the money finally came to you, 
 you would be ignorant, inexperienced, totally un- 
 fitted in every respect to take care of it. In- 
 stead of being ready to help the world on to 
 something better by wisely administering a large 
 fortune, you would have grown up ignorant and 
 self-willed and useless for the position you will 
 be called upon to fill. Now I don't believe this 
 side of it has occurred to you at all. I want you 
 
 to think it all over. And, above all, don't forget 
 
 277
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the duty of loving. And love means a lot, Chris. 
 It means more than just affection. It means a 
 large comprehension, an understanding heart. 
 If you love your grandfather in the way you 
 should love him you will understand him, and 
 if you love your fellow-men you will understand 
 them, and in time you will have the chance to 
 help them. Here we are at South Maybury, and 
 I'll stop preaching. Now we'll do some shopping 
 again. Let's get something very nice for Betty." 
 They found a gift for Betty at the jewellers'. 
 Chris discoverered it himself, and declared that 
 there was nothing else in South Maybury that 
 would do as well, and he purchased it forth- 
 with, being obliged to borrow some money of his 
 cousin to do it, for he had not come prepared to 
 do such extensive shopping. It was a little gold 
 locket in the shape of a heart, and Ludovic made 
 it complete by adding a fine gold chain upon 
 which to wear it. It was great fun, Chris thought, 
 to choose these articles, and of the greatest im- 
 portance to decide properly as to the relative 
 merits of the different sizes and styles. At last 
 this was accomplished, and while the box was 
 being wrapped up his attentive gaze wandered 
 over the other things displayed for sale. They 
 were about to leave the shop when Chris paused 
 and looked back. 
 
 "Cousin Ludovic," he said, and hesitated. 
 278
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "What is it now, Chris?" 
 
 "Do you think grandfather would think it silly 
 if I got him a present?" 
 
 "Why, no, of course not. I am sure he would 
 like it." 
 
 "Do you, really? Well, there's something I'd 
 like to get. It's got some words on it, and I 
 thought if I gave it to him and he read the 
 words he'd understand without my saying any- 
 thing." 
 
 "Of course he would. That is a very good 
 idea. Let's see what it is." 
 
 They returned to the show-case, and Chris- 
 topher requested the man to let him see a case 
 of rings at which he had been looking through 
 the glass while they waited. They were exceed- 
 ingly ugly rings, Ludovic thought, privately ; but 
 their value to Chris lay in the fact that each one 
 was in the form of a shield. On the shield was an 
 initial, and under the initial the words " Je t'aime." 
 They were evidently intended for engagement 
 rings. It was difficult for Chris to decide whether 
 the proper initial to choose should be B for Bald- 
 win or K for Keith. He finally decided upon the 
 latter as being more appropriate, " because grand 
 is so fond of the name of Keith," he explained. 
 
 "Do you think he will wear a ring?" suggested 
 Ludovic, not wishing to interfere, but at the same 
 time wondering what effect such a bit of jewelry 
 
 279
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 might have upon his fastidious uncle, whose taste 
 in dress was severely simple. 
 
 "I think he will if I ask him to," said Chris- 
 topher, with the child's faith in his own power. 
 The rings were all of the same size, so that ques- 
 tion did not trouble him, and very soon another 
 box was tied up, and with the two precious little 
 packages in his pocket they were speeding home- 
 ward. 
 
 They did not talk much. Ludovic felt that he 
 had said enough, for he saw that his words had 
 taken root, and he hoped would bear good fruit. 
 Chris was thinking deeply. They were almost 
 at Pringle Farm when he turned suddenly and 
 asked a question. 
 
 "Cousin Lu," he said, "is it right for some peo- 
 ple to have such lots and lots of money when oth- 
 ers haven't got any? Oughtn't we to divide up?" 
 
 Ludovic was silent for a moment. Then he 
 said: "That question has been asked and thought 
 about almost since history began, old chap. Di- 
 viding up doesn't seem to help matters much, 
 human beings being what they are, for the money 
 can't or won't stay divided. There is so much to 
 affect the matter: superior ability, intelligence, 
 certain talents, education oh, it is a huge sub- 
 ject! But you can do a lot of good with a large 
 fortune if you wish to, Chris, and I hope you will 
 do it. That is one way of 'dividing up.' " 
 
 280
 
 '"l SHALL ALWAYS WEAR IT ALL MY LIKE LONG,' SHE SAID"
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 And then they turned in at the gates of Pringle 
 Farm, for the locket must be given to Betty be- 
 fore Chris went home. 
 
 Of course, Betty was delighted. The chain was 
 fastened around her neck at once, and the little gold 
 heart looked very well on her blue gingham frock. 
 
 "I shall always wear it all my life long," she 
 said. "Pauline has a round locket my aunt gave 
 her, but it isn't nearly as pretty as this. Weren't 
 you two people nice to get me such lovely pres- 
 ents! Was it just because I knew the man from 
 Hoboken yesterday?" 
 
 "Oh no," said Chris, gravely, before his cousin 
 could speak. "We got them for you because 
 you're the nicest girl we know. That's the reason 
 people give presents." 
 
 "Do you really like me better than you do 
 Rachel Amy?" asked Betty, greatly pleased with 
 his reply, but, womanlike, not quite satisfied, and 
 insisting upon pushing the inquiry as far as pos- 
 sible. 
 
 "Why, how funny you are, Betty! I should 
 think you'd know. I like Rachel Amy ever and 
 ever so much, but you're a sort of a relation. Of 
 course, we think you're the nicest girl we know. 
 Don't we, Cousin Lu?" 
 
 "Of course." 
 
 "If it's just because I'm a relation " she be- 
 gan. 
 
 281
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 "Oh, you silly!" exclaimed Christopher. "It 
 isn't. It's because you're just Betty. I couldn't 
 possibly ever like any girl as much as I do you, be- 
 cause why, because you're Betty Hamilton, and 
 there couldn't possibly be another girl like you." 
 
 "All right," said Betty, satisfied at last; "then 
 I'll always be very careful of the locket and never 
 lose it and treasure it forever." Which promise 
 was faithfully kept through all of Betty's life. 
 
 "That important matter being settled, you may 
 as well jump in, Betty. We'll take Chris home," 
 said her uncle, and Betty promptly jumped in. 
 
 That afternoon Mr. Lewis went to Boston again. 
 He was gone for several days; but when he re- 
 turned, he reported that matters were progressing 
 satisfactorily. Banks was in jail awaiting trial; 
 and as there was positive proof of various offences 
 that he had committed, he would certainly be 
 sentenced to a long term of imprisonment. George 
 Smith had been seen and interviewed, and there 
 was no doubt in Ludovic's mind of his being per- 
 fectly innocent in the matter of the attempted 
 stealing of Christopher. He had been so anxious 
 to know what had become of the boy, so relieved 
 to hear that he was at home again, and so un- 
 mistakably disgusted with himself for having been 
 deceived so easily by the accomplished Banks, 
 that Ludovic was quite sure that he had been 
 entirely ignorant of what he was doing. 
 
 282
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 This opinion of George Smith was shared by all 
 of Christopher's immediate friends, but the peo- 
 ple of Maybury Centre were not convinced. The 
 story had soon gained ground that Smith had 
 come back to Maybury when he did for the sole 
 purpose of assisting Banks. 
 
 "I tell yer," exclaimed Sam Wilson, "I seen 
 the thing from the first. Yer can't fool me. 
 George Smith was at the bottom of the whole 
 thing. I'm real sorry for Lucetta and that little 
 Lucy. George is a bad lot." 
 
 In which opinion his intimates concurred. It 
 was a clear case of "once give a dog a bad name," 
 and it was years before George Smith, by work- 
 ing steadily and industriously, succeeded in over- 
 coming the prejudice against him which was so 
 strong in Maybury Centre. He was not there 
 very often, but he came occasionally to see his 
 sister, who, with their cousin Rachel Amy, shared 
 the affections and the home of their aunt Lucetta, 
 for Mrs. Martin united her fortune with that of 
 Timothy Tarleton and went to live in Kingford. 
 Christopher Lovel never again attempted to run 
 away from home. He settled it definitely with 
 his grandfather the evening of the day after his 
 first and only expedition in search of an indepen- 
 dent life. 
 
 The day had been passed much as usual. When 
 Chris returned from the trip to South Maybury 
 
 283
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 the General suggested an hour's music. Then 
 came luncheon, and then the usual afternoon rest 
 which the General invariably indulged in. After 
 that a ride on horseback. They had returned 
 from the ride and were awaiting dinner when 
 Chris finally made up his mind to speak to his 
 grandfather. All day he had been trying to 
 screw up sufficient courage to open the subject. 
 He knew that his grandfather intended that he 
 should speak first. 
 
 "Grand," he said, suddenly rising and standing 
 beside him, "please excuse me for going off. I 
 oughtn't to. I won't again." 
 
 "That's right, boy." 
 
 "And, grand" 
 
 "What is it, boy?" 
 
 The General fully expected to hear something 
 now in regard to the change of name, but Chris- 
 topher had no intention of driving a bargain; in 
 fact, such a thought never occurred to him. He 
 was fumbling in his pockets. At last, after pro- 
 ducing various treasures, such as a bunch of 
 string, a knife, a curious pebble, and other articles 
 of a similar nature, he drew forth the little box. 
 
 "I got you something over in South May bury," 
 he said. 
 
 "You got me something? A present, you 
 mean?" 
 
 "Yes, grand. I I want you please to wear it. 
 
 284
 
 MISS BETTY OF NEW YORK 
 
 It's a ring," he announced. Then anxiously: 
 " Do you think it will fit ? Try it on." 
 
 General Keith did as he was commanded. He 
 had never worn a ring in his life, and he had never 
 seen one which was quite so hideous as this. It 
 fitted exactly his little finger. 
 
 "It does fit!" exclaimed Chris, joyfully. "And 
 do you see what's on it? Put on your glasses, 
 grand." 
 
 General Keith put on his glasses. "Ah," said 
 he. "I see. That is very nice, Christopher. 
 I'm I'm glad to have it." 
 
 "And will you wear the ring? Because you 
 know I'd like to have you remember that, and the 
 ring will remind you." 
 
 "There's no danger of my forgetting, but I will 
 wear the ring." 
 
 "Good!" said Christopher. "I'm glad it fits 
 so well. And you see it has a K on it. That's 
 for Keith." 
 
 The old man looked at it again. Then he put 
 his arm around his grandson and drew him closer 
 to him. 
 
 "Boy," said he, "don't worry. Your name 
 shall always begin with an L. And we will agree, 
 you and I, to let bygones be bygones." 
 
 THE END
 
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