"I doubt it," answered Mrs. Ware. "Elizabeth is an orphan, you know, and
Eugenia Forbes, with all her wealth, is practically homeless, for there
is little home-life in either a boarding-school or a big hotel."

Joyce looked around on the cheerful little group gathered near the lamp,
and a sudden mist blurred her sight at thought of leaving them. She
would not have exchanged the little brown house and what it held, just
then, for a king's palace. Outside in the pitch-darkness of the night
the rain beat against the window-panes like some poor beggar imploring
to come in; and inside it was so cosy and bright with the warmth and
cheer of home-loves and home-lights that Joyce was not sure, after all,
that she could leave such a shelter even to be a guest at the Little
Colonel's house party.




CHAPTER V.

BETTY REACHES THE "HOUSE BEAUTIFUL."


It was very early in the morning, while the dew was still on the
meadows, that Betty fared forth on her pilgrimage. The old farm wagon
that was to take her to the railroad station, two miles away, was drawn
up to the door before five o'clock. Davy proudly held the reins while
his father carried Betty's trunk down-stairs.

Poor, shabby, little, old leather trunk! It was not half full, for there