"
Betty was trying to look sober, but her eyes were dancing with
merriment in spite of her efforts. Finally she gave a half-stifled
little laugh as she said, "I was dreadfully sorry for him, but he
was so funny sitting there at the top of the stairs and looking
so dignified and cross. I almost know he'd been doing his best to
get up without letting us hear him."
Betty's laugh was irresistible, and Ruth, who had been on the verge
of either laughter or tears ail day, couldn't help joining in.
"Oh, oh," laughed Betty, burying her face in a cushion. "Sh,
sh, he'll hear us," she gasped, as Ruth gave an answering peal of
laughter. "It's dreadful of us," said Betty at last, sitting up
and wiping her eyes, "to laugh at that poor boy. I'm just ashamed."
"So am I," gasped Ruth, "but you're really too funny when you laugh
and I couldn't help it."
Betty's eyes twinkled, and Ruth looked as though a fresh burst were
imminent when a pleasant voice said in the doorway:
"Well, I hear that my girl has stolen a march on me and got here
before I expected her. Your father's telegram has only just arrived,
my dear, and I am so sorry that I wasn't here to welcome you.
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