Ruth smiled gratefully. "I'm glad you did, for I do feel just a
bit lonesome. What a darling kitten," she continued, stroking the
soft head as the black mite blinked sleepily at her and stretched
out a tiny paw.

"I thought I'd bring him over," said Betty, "because kittens are
such a comfort to me, and I hoped you liked them, too. Mrs. Hamilton
says you may have a kitten if you want one, and I thought this one
would look so well on your white rug that I chose him."

"Is he really for me?" cried Ruth as she took him gently in her arms
and sat down on the rug. "You couldn't have brought me anything I
should have liked better. I had to give away my kitten when I left
home and I had begun to miss the dear thing already."

"I told the girls I was sure you liked kittens," said Betty
triumphantly, "and now I shall crow over them, for they are always
laughing at me for liking them so much. Charlotte says that a kitten
is my trade-mark."

"Tell me about Charlotte," said Ruth eagerly. "Is she as much like
her picture as you are?"

"Charlotte is a dear, and I know you'll like her, though some of
the girls call her queer and odd and never do get really acquainted
with her. She's tall and thin and doesn't look very strong, and
I'm afraid you won't think her a bit pretty. I'm so fond of her,
though, that she always looks pretty to me," ended Betty loyally,
trying to do full justice to her friend and yet be honest.