"
The little bay horse and the tall, shambling white were amiably straying
up and down the narrow borders of the road, never getting very far away.
"You haven't said a single word about my going to boarding school, Bob,"
Betty said, dropping down comfortably on the dusty grass and breaking the
tart across into two nearly even pieces. "There--take your pie. Don't you
think I'll have fun with the Littell girls?"
"You'll have a lark, but I'm not so sure about the teachers," declared
Bob enthusiastically, an odd little smile quivering on his lips. "With
you and Bobby Littell about, I doubt if the school knows a dull moment."
"Bobby is so funny," dimpled Betty. "She writes that if Libbie comes, her
aunt expects Bobby to look after her. Wait a minute and I'll read you
that part--" Betty took a letter from the pocket of her blouse.
"Listen--
"Aunt Elizabeth has written mother that she hopes I will keep an eye on
Libbie. Now Betty, can you honestly see me trailing around after that
girl who sees a romance in every bush and book and who cries when any one
plays violin music? I'll look after her all right--she'll have to study
French instead of poetry if I'm to be her friend and guide.
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