Elizabeth was close to tears. She had seen for some time that her little Betsy's fancy was leaning decidedly towards the handsome Spottswood Taylor, and she could not but feel that the match would be advantageous. She longed to have her daughter free from the baleful surroundings of The Hedges. Of course, if her husband plunged into what she could not but consider this disgraceful business of ruining the fortunes of the Taylors, one could hardly expect them to receive a daughter of the house of Bolling with open arms.
Betsy, her mother divined, was beginning to show decided signs of being in love. She was a little moody, more particular than usual about her appearance and dress, finding new ways to arrange her pretty hair and forever laundering a blue linen dress, for which Rebecca had told her Spottswood had expressed admiration.
Elizabeth did not try to persuade herself that the Taylors would approve of the match, but she was sure that her dear Betsy could eventually make even the austere Evelyn and Myra like her if she were married to their brother. Betsy was so sweet, so bright and gay, so good-humored and obliging. Major Taylor already liked her girl. Of course he had not contemplated her as a daughter-in-law, and he might
