those who refuse, Timothy Derby who reads poetry and Sydney Cooke who
ought to--" and Bobby completed her speech with a wicked grin, for she
had managed to hit several weaknesses.

"As an introducer," she announced calmly to Carter, the personification
of propriety's horror, "I think I do rather well."

They stowed themselves into the limousine somehow, the girls settled more
or less comfortably on the seats, the boys squeezed in between, hanging
on the running board, and spilling over into Carter's domain.

Bob liked the five boys at once, and they seemed to accept him as one of
them. If he had had a little fear that he would feel diffident and
unboyish among lads of his own age, it vanished at the first contact.

"Betty, you sweet child, how we have missed you!" cried Mrs. Littell,
standing on the lowest step under the porte-cochère as the car swept up
the drive of Fairfields, as the Littell's home was called.

Behind her waited Mr. Littell, fully recovered from the injury to his
foot which had made him an invalid during Betty's previous visit.

From Carter, who had beamingly greeted her at the station, to the pretty
parlor maid who smiled as Betty entered her room to find her turning down
the bed covers, there was not a servant who did not remember Betty and
seem glad to see her.

"It is so good to have you two here again," Mr. Littell had said.

"I never knew such people," Betty repeated to herself twenty times that