Betty Gordon in Washington Part 15

Betty began to laugh. She laughed so hard that she had to sit down on the floor, and the more the two girls glared at each other, the harder she laughed.

"I don't see what's so funny," resented Bobby, beginning to snicker, too. "For goodness sake, don't have hysterics, Betty. Mother will hear you and come rapping on the door in a minute."

"I just thought of something." The convulsed Betty made a heroic effort to control her laughter and failed completely. "Oh, girls,"

she cried, wiping her eyes, "here you are bickering about the bride and the minister, and not one of us thought of the bridegroom. We left him out!"

Louise and Bobby rolled over on the bed and had their laugh out.

Libbie collapsed on the floor, and Esther leaned against the bureau, laughing till she cried.

"They say the bridegroom isn't important at a wedding, but I never heard of ignoring him altogether," gasped Bobby, and then they were off again.

They made so much noise that Mrs. Littell tapped on the door to ask why they were not in bed, and when Bobby told her the joke, she had to sit down and laugh, too.

"I'll send you up some sponge cake and milk if you'll promise to go right to sleep after that," she told them, kissing each one good night all over again. "Libbie shall at least have the wedding cake, if she can't have a wedding."

CHAPTER XV

OFF TO INVESTIGATE

Drip! drip! drip!

Betty listened sleepily, and then, as she raised herself on one elbow to hear better, she knew the noise was made by the rain.

"If that isn't too provoking!" Bobby sat up with an indignant jerk and surveyed Betty across the little table at the head of the beds.

"I thought we'd all go down to Mount Vernon to-day, and now it's gone and rained and spoiled it all. Oh, dear! I don't think I'll get up"; and she curled down in a dejected heap under the white spread.

"Well, I'm going to get up," announced Betty decidedly, springing out of bed with her accustomed energy. "Rainy days are just as much fun as sunny ones, and there's something I have to do to-day, weather or no weather."

"She's a dear," said Louise warmly, smiling as the sound of Betty's carolling came to them above the sound of running water in the bathroom. "Mother says she likes her more and more every day. I wish her uncle would never write to her and she'd just go on living with us all the time."

"And go to school with us in the fall. That would be nice," agreed Bobby reflectively. "But, of course, Betty's heart would be broken if she never heard from her uncle. However, we'll be as nice to her as we can, and then maybe she will want to stay with us anyway, even if he does send for her."

"What are you two plotting?" asked Betty gaily, emerging warm and rosy from her vigorous tubbing. "Do you know, I've just remembered that I promised to show Libbie how to make mile-a-minute lace before breakfast? I hope there is time."

"What on earth do you want to make lace for?" demanded the practical Bobby, as her cousin appeared in the doorway, rubbing sleepy eyes.

"It's too early to begin on Christmas presents."

Libbie was not at all confused in her ideas, and she had a very clear reason for wis.h.i.+ng to add this accomplishment to her rather limited list.

"It's for my hope-chest," she informed Bobby with dignity, and not even the shout of laughter which greeted this statement could ruffle her. "You may think it's funny," she observed serenely, "but I have six towels and three ap.r.o.ns made and put away all ready."

"My aunt!" sighed Bobby inelegantly, shaking her head. "You believe in starting young, don't you? Why, I'm fourteen, and I've never given a thought to a hope-chest."

Here Esther, the early riser of the family, created a diversion by coming in fully dressed and announcing that Mammy Lou was willing to teach as many girls as cared to come after breakfast how to make beaten biscuit.

"Take Libbie," giggled Bobby, whose sense of humor was easily tickled. "She's collecting stuff for her hope chest and I should think biscuit recipes would be just the thing. Do you want to learn to cook, Betty? Esther has a kitchen hobby and rides it almost to death."

"I do not!" retorted Esther indignantly. "Do I, Louise? Mother loved to cook when she was a girl, and she says she likes to see me fussing in the kitchen."

Betty was showing Libbie how to hold her crochet hook, and now she looked up from her pupil.

"Why, I'd love to learn to make those wonderful biscuits Mammy Lou makes," she said slowly, "but I really have to go into Was.h.i.+ngton to-day.

That is, if it will not upset any one's plans? I can easily walk to the trolley line, and I won't be gone longer than a couple of hours."

A trolley line ran about half a mile from the house, and to Betty who had frequently walked ten miles a day while at Bramble Farm, this distance seemed negligible.

"Let me go with you, Betty?" coaxed Bobby. "Carter will take us in the machine. I won't bother you, and if you have personal business to attend to, I'll wait for you in the library or some place. Cooking and making lace drives me wild, and if you leave me at home as likely as not I'll pick a quarrel with some one before the morning is over."

"Worse than that, she'll insist on singing while I'm trying to practice," said Louise. "I'm three or four days behind with my violin, and a rainy morning is a grand time to catch up. Do take her with you, Betty."

"Why, goodness, she will be taking me," insisted Betty. "Of course you know I'll love to have you, Bobby. As a matter of fact, I wanted to ask you to go with me because it is a strange place and your father said not to go alone. Only I didn't want to disturb any plans you might have made for to-day. I'll tell you about it on the way,"

she added noting the look of growing curiosity on Bobby's face.

After breakfast the girls scattered to their chosen occupations, and Mrs. Littell settled herself to read to her husband on the gla.s.s enclosed piazza that extended half way across the back of the house.

The car was brought round for Betty and Bobby and, commissioned to do several small errands in town, they set off.

"Now where are we going?" demanded Bobby bouncing around on the seat cus.h.i.+ons more like a girl of seven than fourteen. "Do tell me, for I'm simply devoured with curiosity."

So Betty briefly outlined for her a little of Bob's history and of what she knew Lockwood Hale had told the poorhouse master. She also explained how she had obtained the old bookshop man's address from the bride they had met in the Monument the day before.

The rain came down steadily, and the country road was already muddy, showing that it had stormed the greater part of the night. Carter was a careful driver, and the luxurious limousine had been subst.i.tuted for the touring car so that the girls were protected and very comfortable. Quite suddenly Carter brought the car to a stop on a lonely stretch of road just above a sharp turn.

"Goodness, I hope he hasn't a puncture," said Bobby. "I was so interested in listening to you I never heard anything. What's wrong, Carter?" she called.

"There's a little dog in the road, Miss Bobby," said Carter slowly and distinctly, as he always spoke. Bobby had once declared that she did not believe a fire would shake Carter from his drawling speech.

"A puppy, I guess you'd call it. I'll have to move it to one side before we can drive past, because it is in the middle of the road."

Bobby leaned out to look.

"It must be hurt!" she cried. "Bring it in here, quick, Carter. Why, it's just a tiny puppy, Betty," she added; "a black and white one."

Carter, mingled pain and reproach in his face, brought the dog to them, holding it gingerly away from him so as not to soil his coat.

"It's very muddy, Miss Bobby," he said disapprovingly. "Your mother won't like them nice gray cus.h.i.+ons all stained up."

"Well, couldn't you lend me your handkerchief, Carter?" suggested Bobby gently. "I'll wipe him off. There now, he's all right. My handkerchief's so small it wouldn't have done one of his paws."

Carter, minus his handkerchief, started the car and they rounded the curve. The puppy seemed to be all right except that he was wet and s.h.i.+vering, and Bobby and Betty had decided that he was very young but otherwise in perfect health when the car stopped again.

"There's another one of 'em, Miss Bobby," groaned Carter. "You don't want this one, do you?"

The girls thrust out their heads. Sure enough, another black and white puppy lay abandoned in the roadway.

"Certainly, we'll pick it up," said Bobby indignantly. "Do you suppose we're going to go past a dog and let it die in the rain?

Bring it here, please, Carter."