we didn't want her, and--"

"Oh, that's all right," answered Betty coolly. "Don't worry. I have
written to Aunt Pike and told her all that, and I posted it myself to
make sure of its going. She will get it almost as soon as she gets--"

"Betty, you haven't?"

"Yes, I have," said Betty quietly. "Why not? I am sure it was best to.
Fanny wouldn't live with her, I know, and Jabez said it would be more
than his life was worth, and you know father hates changing servants, so
I wrote and told her exactly all about it. I wrote quite plainly, and I
think she will understand."

"O Betty, you shouldn't have. What _will_ father say?"

"Father will be very glad, I think. He hates writing letters himself."

"Um--m!" commented Kitty dubiously, but said no more, for at that moment
Dan's door was opened, and she heard her father's steps pass lightly
along the corridor.

A few moments later she slipped out of bed and carried Dan's tray to his
room, but she did not go in with it. Her instinct told her that he
would rather she did not just then; so, laying it on the floor, she
tapped lightly at his door, told him what was there, and crept back to
bed again.

"What a day it has been," she thought to herself as she nestled down
under the cool sheet. "Yet it began like all the others. I wonder how