ences instead of trusting their recital to letters.
The train had been made up late the night before and many of the passengers were still sleepy-eyed after restless hours in their berths. A good many of them were at breakfast in the dining car, and as there was no parlor car Betty had to take half a section already occupied by a rather frowsy young woman with two small children.
"We take on a parlor car at Willowvale," the porter assured Betty, only too sympathetically, for he had been waiting on the woman and her children since the afternoon before. "I'll see that you get a chair then, Miss."
Betty settled herself as comfortably as she could and opened her magazine.
"Read to me?" suggested a little voice, and a sticky hand caressed her skirt timidly.
"Now don't bother the lady," said the mother, trying to pull the child away. "My land, if I ever live to get you children to your grandmother's I'll be thankful! Lottie, stop making scratches on that window sill!"
Lottie pursed her pretty mouth in a pout and drummed her small heels discontentedly against the green plush of the seat.
Betty smiled into the rebellious blue eyes and was rewarded by a sudden, radiant smile. She closed her magazine and found the mother gazing
