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Updated: May 21, 2025
"Oh, well, I might have known you would have guessed it. It is from Bobby. Want to hear a little bit?" "I don't mind," conceded Bob graciously, keeping a finger in his book. "She says they've been to Atlantic City for a month," explained Betty. "That is, Bobby, Esther, Louise and Mrs. Littell. Mr. Littell could spend only a week with them. And now the girls are going to boarding school. Listen.
Eustice will expect all of us that have had 'em to come." There was an exciting conclave at Fairfields that evening. Perhaps I should say two. For in one room given over by the good-natured Mrs. Littell to the young folks there was a most noisy conclave while the older members of the household held a more quiet if no less earnest conference in the library.
The portrait of Dr. Adams hangs on my study wall alongside of the portrait of Chalmers and as I look at his majestic countenance now, I still seem to see him as on that Sabbath morning he stood before us, with the light of eternity beaming on his brow! "That," said Mr. Littell, "is the Harvard Congregational meeting house. They have lately called a brilliant young Mr.
The car was stopped at one of the concrete walks leading to the base of the Monument, and with final instructions as to the time and place they were to meet her, Mrs. Littell drove away. "Why, there's a crowd there!" cried Libbie in wonder. "Waiting to be taken up," explained Louise. "Come on, we'll have to stand in line." The line of waiting people extended half way around the Monument.
Lewis Bolter's new mare from England. I heard Mr. Littell and Uncle Dick talking about her." "And I met a girl named Ida Bellethorne. I'll tell you all about her later, Bob," said Betty. "Just now I want to know what to do about the locket." "I should say you did! And I'll tell you what," Bob said promptly.
"She hates to ride in an elevator, and yet I know by actual count she's gone up in the Monument a dozen times." "I suppose every one who comes to Washington wants to go sightseeing," said Betty Littell, or, as she must begin to be called now, Libbie, "I know how it is in our little town at home.
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 we ought to have some dinner, Mother, and then talk at the table." "Of course, of course," agreed motherly Mrs. Littell.
When they came down dinner had been announced and they went directly to the table. They had so much to tell Mrs. Littell and she was so interested that it was not until they were leaving the table that she remembered what she had meant to ask Betty as soon as the girl came in. "Betty, darling," she said comfortably, "you found your letter on the hall table all right, didn't you?"
The remaining days of the term fairly flew, and almost before they realized it, school closed for the Christmas holidays. A merry party boarded the train for the Junction, where they could make connections for Washington, one crisp, sunny December morning. "Every one here?" demanded Bobby Littell. "I don't want to run the risk of arriving home short a guest or two."
Just after they passed through the gate, some one caught her. "Betty, you lamb! I never was so glad to see any one in my life!" cried a gay voice, and Bobby Littell hugged her close in one of her rare caresses. Bob Henderson held out his hand as soon as Bobby released Betty. He liked this straightforward, brusque girl who so evidently adored Betty.
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