talk to her."

"Well, I will," said Betty, and started up the stairs. Half-way up
she paused and then came back. "I've got to run back home, Arthur.
There's something I want to get before I meet Ruth, and I won't be
gone a minute."

She was out of the house in a second, and Arthur left to himself
wondered if he should have time to get up-stairs before her return.
"I should be afraid to try it," he thought; "she's as quick as a
flash, and I should probably be stuck half-way up by the time she
got back. I'll wait until the girls get to talking and then they
won't hear anything."

In the meantime the pretty pink room was doing its best to make
the new occupant feel at home.

"What a dear room!" Ruth said involuntarily as she stepped across
the threshold, and, as if to welcome the little mistress, the
andirons gleamed brightly, the polished teakettle shone with all
its might, and a capacious couch heaped with pillows and covered
with a gay Bagdad looked so comfortable that Ruth longed to try it
at once. She couldn't resist the temptation to peep into the desk
which stood in the comer, and she oh-ed with delight over the dainty
paper and the pretty silver penholder with her name engraved on
it.

"I suppose you must belong to me, you dear room," she said half
aloud, "but I didn't think that I should have such a pretty one."