"
* * * * *
"But, of course, Bobby does really love Libbie very dearly," said Betty,
folding up the letter and returning it to her pocket. "She wouldn't hurt
her for worlds."
"You'll be a much better guardian for Libbie, if she needs one,"
pronounced Bob, with unexpected shrewdness. "Bobby hasn't much tact,
and she makes Libbie mad. You could probably control her better with
less words."
"Well, I never!" gasped Betty, gazing at Bob with new respect. "I never
knew you thought anything about it."
"Didn't until just now," responded Bob cheerfully. "So Uncle Dick is
willing to let you go, is he? When do you start?"
"You don't mind, do you, Bob?" countered Betty, puzzled. "You sound so
kind of--of funny."
"Don't mean to," said Bob laconically.
Having finished his tart, he lay back and rested his head in his hands in
true masculine contentment.
"I like that blue thing you've got on," he commented lazily. "Did I ever
see it before?"
"Certainly not," Betty informed him. "I've been waiting for you to notice
it. It's wash silk, Bob, and your Aunt Faith said I could have it if I
could do anything with it.
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