Betty's Happy Year

His dirty little face gleamed with delight, and he held the awful-looking package out toward Betty.

She drew back, feeling that she could not take that box in charge again, and Fred Bates said sternly:

“What does this mean? Why are you annoying Miss McGuire?”

“This chap says it’s the lady’s property,” explained the clerk who was looking after the boy. “Say the word, sir, and we’ll put him out.”

He laid a hand on the urchin’s shoulder, but the boy spoke up insistently:

“It is hers, sir! I seen her lose it outen the cab winder, an’ I picked it up, an’ ran to catch ’er, an’ I seen her jest as she came in the whirligig door, an’ I got here as soon as they’d let me!”

“That awful-looking bundle, Betty’s!” cried Dorothy, in disgust. “Of course it isn’t! What nonsense!”

At this the clerk made as if to eject the boy who had brought the bundle, and then Betty’s sense of justice was aroused. It was awful to claim ownership of that disreputable piece of property, but it was worse, in her estimation, to have an innocent boy reprimanded for doing what he had believed to be right.

“It is mine,” she said bravely, though her cheeks grew scarlet at the surprised glances cast upon her, not only by her friends, but by strangers who happened to be passing.

“It is mine,” she repeated, turning to the boy, “and you did right to bring back to me what you thought I had lost. But I want to lose it, as it is of no use to me. So if you will please take it away and dispose of it properly, I will be much obliged to you, and I will give you this.”

Betty took a two-dollar bill from her purse, and offered it to the boy, who still held the bundle.

“Sure, lady,” he said, flashing a grateful glance at her. “You’re a white one, you are! Thank you, lady!”

The clerk smiled and bowed, and ushered the small boy away. The urchin turned to give Betty one more admiring look, and she smiled pleasantly at him, and said:

“You’d better look in that box before you throw it away.”

“Sure!” he replied, grinning, and then he disappeared.

“Now, Dorothy,” said Betty, restored to equanimity, now that the box was finally disposed of, “let us go and sit down quietly somewhere, and I’ll tell you all about it.”

“Do!” cried Fred Bates. “You’re the most mysterious person I ever heard of, Miss McGuire! Come right up to our family sitting-room and relate to us the story of the Beautiful Young Lady and her Strange Piece of Luggage!”

“Very well,” said Betty, dimpling and smiling. “Come on, and the whole of the dramatic tale I will unfold!”

Which she did, to a most enthusiastic and hilarious audience.

XII

A LUCKY PENNY

“There’s no doubt about it,” said Jeanette, “Betty is the most popular girl in school.”

“Not only in school,” amended Dorothy; “she’s the most popular girl in our whole set. The boys all adore her, too.”

“Yes, they do,” agreed Lena Carey. “My brother Bob thinks she’s just about all right.”

The three, on their way to school, had paused in front of Betty’s house, and she came out and joined them.

It was late in October. The McGuires had been back in their city home for several weeks, and both Betty and Jack were in school again.

“Do your ears burn, Betty?” asked Dorothy; as they two fell behind the other couple; “for we’ve been throwing the biggest sort of bouquets at you!”

“They didn’t hit my ears,” said Betty, laughing. “What sort were they?”

“Oh, we just said you’re a disagreeable old thing, and nobody loves you!”

“Nothing of the sort!” cried honest Jeanette, turning her head. “We all agreed that you’re a general favorite and the boys like you better than they do any of the rest of us.”

“Spare me blushes!” cried Betty. “Which of the boys confided this startling news to you?”

“Of course we can see it,” said Lena, “but, to make sure, I asked Brother Bob. I said, says I, ‘Which girl do you like best of all our set?’ and he said, ‘Why, Betty, of course, – doesn’t everybody?’ and I said, ‘Yes.’”

“Oh, Lena, you goose!” said Betty, but she was unable to repress a pleased smile at her friends’ talk.

It was really true, Betty had become a prodigious favorite among the circle of Boston young people with whom she associated. She was so whole-souled and good-hearted, so ready to help everybody, so merry and full of fun, and withal so unostentatious and simple-mannered, that nobody could help liking her.

And though only a little over sixteen years old, an innate spirit of coquetry had begun to show itself, and her dark, roguish eyes and dimpling smile often captivated the boys who belonged to what the school-girls called “our set.”

Not that Betty was really romantic. Her coquetry was more mischievous than sentimental, and, though she loved to tease, her warm, generous nature never allowed the teasing to hurt the feelings of another. It was an open secret that both Harry Harper and Ralph Burnett were especial admirers of Betty, and, in an amicable, good-natured way, were rivals for her favor.

But Betty was impartial, and at dancing-school or at the little “neighborhood parties” would accept attentions equally from both.

However, Betty’s popularity was only a matter of degree, and gay, laughing Dorothy, lovely, quiet Jeanette, and pretty Lena Carey were also favorites in school and out. As the quartet walked along, Lena said:

“I’ve a lovely secret to tell you, but as we’re almost at school now, I think I’ll leave it until recess.”

“No, tell us now!” clamored the others.

“My! but you’re curious!” teased Lena. “No, I won’t tell you now, but I’ll tell you part of it. Just enough to stir up your curiosity a little more. I’m going to have a party!”

This was indeed interesting, but not another word would Lena tell, and so all the morning the three eager girls could only wonder what sort of a party it was to be, and how big, and when, and a thousand other important questions.

But at recess the four gathered in a corner of the school-yard, and Lena expounded.

“It’s a Hallowe’en party,” she said, and then had to wait for their delighted exclamations to pause before she could proceed.

“Hallowe’en is a week from Friday,” she went on, “and Mother said last night that I could have a party if I liked. So Bob and I talked it over, and we decided that a ghost party would be fun.”

“What is a ghost party?” “How do you mean?” “Oh, just a phantom party!” exclaimed the three listeners all at once.

“Well, I haven’t planned it much,” said Lena, “because I thought it would be more fun for us to plan it together.”

“What a duck you are!” cried Betty. “I love to plan parties! Can we wear fancy costumes?”

“Oh, let’s be witches,” said Dorothy. “We ought to on Hallowe’en, you know.”

“Witches or ghosts, either, would be all right,” put in Jeanette. “I suppose you’ll have all the old Hallowe’en tricks, Lena?”