Part 2

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY

The Riverside Press Cambridge

COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY SARAH ORNE JEWETT

COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY MARY R. JEWETT

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

The Riverside Press

CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS

PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

WITH LOVE TO

M. G. L.

ONE OF THE FIRST OF BETTY'S FRIENDS

CONTENTS.

PAGE I. AS FAR AS RIVERPORT 1 II. THE PACKET BOAT 17 III. A BIT OF COLOR 28 IV. TIDESHEAD 40 V. AT BECKY'S HOUSE 50 VI. THE GARDEN TEA 60 VII. THE SIN BOOKS 72 VIII. A CHAPTER OF LETTERS 93 IX. BETTY'S REFLECTIONS 108 X. UP-COUNTRY 137 XI. THE TWO FRIENDS 158 XII. BETTY AT HOME 171 XIII. A GREAT EXCITEMENT 185 XIV. THE OUT-OF-DOOR CLUB 209 XV. THE STARLIGHT COMES IN 221 XVI. DOWN THE RIVER 239 XVII. GOING AWAY 276

BETTY LEICESTER.

AS FAR AS RIVERPORT.

TWO persons sat at a small breakfast-table near an open window, high up in Young's Hotel in Boston. It was a pleasant June morning, just after eight o'clock, and they could see the white clouds blowing over; but the gray walls of the Court House were just opposite, so that one cannot say much of their view of the world. The room was pleasanter than most hotel rooms, and the persons at breakfast were a girl of fifteen, named Betty Leicester, and her father. Their friends thought them both good-looking, but it ought to be revealed in this story just what sort of good looks they had, since character makes the expression of people's faces. But this we can say, to begin with: they had eyes very much alike, very kind and frank and pleasant, and they had a good fresh color, as if they spent much time out-of-doors. In fact, they were just off the sea, having come in only two days before on the Catalonia from Liverpool; and the Catalonia, though very comfortable, had made a slower voyage than some steamers do in coming across.

They had nearly finished breakfast, but Betty was buttering one more nice bit of toast to finish her marmalade, while Mr. Leicester helped himself to more strawberries. They both looked a little grave, as if something important were to be done when breakfast was over; and if you had sat in the third place by the table, and, instead of looking out of the window, had looked to right and left into the bedrooms that opened at either hand, you would guess the reason. In Betty's room, on her table, were ulster and her umbrella and her traveling-bag beside a basket, these last being labeled "Miss E. Leicester, Tideshead;" and in the room opposite was a corresponding array, excepting that the labels read, "T. Leicester, Windsor Hotel, Montreal." So for once the girl and her father were going in different directions.

"Papa, dear," said Betty, "how long will it be before you can tell about coming back from Alaska?"

"Perhaps I shall know in a month," said Mr. Leicester; "but you understand that it will not be like a journey through civilized countries, and there are likely to be many hindrances and delays. Beside, you must count upon our finding everything enormously interesting. I shall try hard not to forget how interesting a waiting young somebody called Betty is!"

Betty made an attempt to smile, but she began to feel very dismal. "The aunts will ask me, you know, papa dear," she said. "I am sure that Aunt Barbara felt a little grumpy about your not coming now."

"Dear Aunt Barbara!" said Mr. Leicester seriously; "I wish that I could have managed it, but I will stay long enough to make up, when I get back from the North."

"Your birthday is the first of September; thirty-nine this year, you poor old thing! Oh if we could only have the day in Tideshead, it would be such fun!" Betty looked more cheerful again with this hope taking possession of her mind.

"You are always insisting upon my having a new birthday!" said Mr. Leicester, determined upon being cheerful too. "You will soon be calling me your grandfather. I mean to expect a gold-headed cane for my present this year. Now we must be getting ready for the station, dear child. I am sure that we shall miss each other, but I will do things for you and you will do things for me, won't you, Betsey?" and he kissed her affectionately, while Betty clung fast to him with both arms tight round his neck. Somehow she never had felt so badly at saying good-by.

"And you will be very good to the old aunts? Remember how fond they have always been of your dear mamma and of me, and how ready they are to give you all their love. I think you can grow to be a very great comfort to them and a new pleasure. They must really need you to play with."

There was a loud knock at the door; the porter came in and carried away a high-heaped armful from Betty's room. "Carriage is ready at the door, sir," he said. "Plenty of time, sir;" and then went hurrying away again to summon somebody else. Betty's eyes were full of tears when she came out of her room and met papa, who was just looking at his watch in the little parlor.

"Say 'God bless you, Betty,'" she managed to ask.

"God bless you, Betty, my dear Betty!" Mr. Leicester said gravely. "God bless you, dear, and make you a blessing."

"Papa dear, I wasn't really crying. You know that you're coming back within three months, and we shall be writing letters all the time, and Tideshead isn't like a strange place."