her name was Betty, and all the way home she talked about Uncle Dick, and now she says dad isn't her uncle! I'm afraid I've made a mess of things."
"Yes, I think you have," said Betty, with blazing cheeks. "I came to Washington to meet my uncle, Mr. Richard Gordon, who is stopping at the Willard. Of course my name is Betty. I'm Betty Gordon, and he's my Uncle Dick. And goodness only knows what he is doing now—he'll be about crazy if he came to meet me."
Bobby began to laugh uncontrollably.
"I never heard of such a thing in my life!" she giggled, wiping her eyes. "Dad's name is Richard Littell, and we've been expecting our cousin Betty Littell to arrive to-day from Vermont for a long visit. We haven't seen her since she was six years old, but I took a chance on recognizing her. And then there was the name! How could I guess there would be two Bettys looking for two Uncle Dicks! Don't be mad, Betty; you can see a mix-up like that wouldn't happen twice in a life time."
"She isn't mad," interposed Mr. Littell, lowering himself carefully to the window seat, for he had been standing all this time and his foot began to pain again. "After she knows you a little better, Bobby, she will expect this sort of denouement to follow whatever you undertake. I say
