that part--" Betty took a letter from the pocket of her blouse.
"Listen--

"Aunt Elizabeth has written mother that she hopes I will keep an eye on
Libbie. Now Betty, can you honestly see me trailing around after that
girl who sees a romance in every bush and book and who cries when any one
plays violin music? I'll look after her all right--she'll have to study
French instead of poetry if I'm to be her friend and guide."

* * * * *

"But, of course, Bobby does really love Libbie very dearly," said Betty,
folding up the letter and returning it to her pocket. "She wouldn't hurt
her for worlds."

"You'll be a much better guardian for Libbie, if she needs one,"
pronounced Bob, with unexpected shrewdness. "Bobby hasn't much tact,
and she makes Libbie mad. You could probably control her better with
less words."

"Well, I never!" gasped Betty, gazing at Bob with new respect. "I never
knew you thought anything about it."

"Didn't until just now," responded Bob cheerfully. "So Uncle Dick is
willing to let you go, is he? When do you start?"

"You don't mind, do you, Bob?" countered Betty, puzzled. "You sound so
kind of--of funny."

"Don't mean to," said Bob laconically.