"I like the idea of five girls in the house," beamed Mrs. Littell, who was the soul of hospitality and fairly idolized her three daughters. Whatever discipline they had came from their father. "And now I think I had better go to the station, after our Betty, don't you?"
"Oh, Mother!" came in concert from the piano, where Bobby was rattling off a lively waltz. "We all want to go. Please? There's plenty of room in the car."
Mrs. Littell looked undecided.
"One of you may go with your mother," said Mr. Littell decisively. "I think it had better be Louise. Now, there is no use in arguing. One girl is enough. Betty will be tired after traveling all night and all day, and she will be in no mood for talking and carrying on. I'll tell Carter to bring the car around, Mother."
Bobby pouted for a few moments after her mother and sister had gone, but her good-nature was easily restored and she and Betty and Esther were deep in an exchange of confidences when Mrs. Littell returned bringing the missing Betty with her.
"Now stand up for a minute, you two Bettys," commanded Bobby, when greetings had been exchanged and explanations made. "I want to see if I made such a dreadful mistake in taking Betty Gordon for Betty Littell."
The two girls stood side by side, and though they both had dark eyes and hair, there the resemblance ceased. Betty Littell was a dumpling of a girl with curly hair, a snub nose and round face. She looked the picture of good-nature, and her plumpness suggested a fondness for sweets that subsequent acquaintance with her fully sustained.
Betty Gordon had grown tall through the summer, and she was of a slender, wiry build that hinted of a fondness for outdoor life. Her heavy straight hair was wrapped around her well-shaped little head in braids, and her exquisite little hands and feet, so far her one claim to beauty, though later promises lay in her glowing face, gave her, as Louise afterward confided to her mother, "an air like an Indian princess."
"No, you don't look much alike," conceded Bobby, after a prolonged scrutiny. "But Betty Gordon looks the way I thought Betty Littell would look, so I don't see that I am to blame."
"Trust Bobby to excuse herself from a scrape," chuckled her father. "By the way, how are you going to arrange about names? Two Bettys in the family will involve complications."