"You little witch! Nobody ever tricked me before! Now, you, each of you, and Jack too, can get the very best hats you can find in Boston and send the bill to me."
"Oh, goody, Grandpa, that will be great fun!" cried Betty. "But you go with us, won't you, to pick them out?"
"No; we can't go in these rigs. But we'll hurry home and put on our own frocks; then we'll come back here for you, and we'll all go hatting."
"No, sir; we'll be back in half an hour."
"Oh, Betty, I'm so upset!" exclaimed Dorothy Bates, as she came into the McGuire library one afternoon in early May.
"What's the matter, Dotty?" asked Betty. "The party isn't off, is it?"
"No; we're to go, all right; but Jeanette can't go. She has such a cold, her mother won't let her go away from home. And I've just come from there. She really is ill; isn't it too bad?"
"Yes, indeed it is! We would have had such a lovely time, all together."
"Well, we'll go, anyhow. And, Betty, as Irene expects three of us, I think it would be nice to ask some one to go in Jeanette's place. I'd like to ask Constance Harper, but I know you don't like her very much."
"Oh, I like Constance well enough, but she doesn't like me."
"Well, whichever way it is, you two never seem to get along very well together. But who else is there?"
"Martha! Why, Betty, nobody likes Martha. And well--you know Martha, poor girl, has to count every penny, and--and she never seems quite at her ease--not that that's anything against her, but she wouldn't have pretty dresses and hats, and the people at Halstead House are often dressy and gay."
"I know it; but if Martha doesn't mind that, we needn't. And, Dorothy, you don't know Martha as well as I do. She never has any good times, and it's that that makes her shy and awkward. Oh, do ask her to go with us, if only for my sake."
"Betty, what a queer girl you are! I like Martha well enough, but I don't believe she'll go with us. I'll ask her, though, as you're so set upon it."
"What's this enthusiastic discussion all about?" asked Mrs. McGuire, pausing at the library door, as she was passing through the hall.
"Oh, Mother, come in!" cried Betty. "What do you think? Jeanette is quite ill and she can't go with us to the house-party at Irene Halstead's."