“And more people,” said Betty.
“Yes,” agreed Jack; “I’ve always noticed there are more people in a large city than in a small village.”
Betty threw a hammock pillow at him, and went on: “I mean more people that I like to be with. I shall miss Dorothy and Jeanette awfully down here.”
“You might invite them to visit you,” suggested her mother.
“I would; but it’s rather dull here. There’s nothing special for them to do, you see; they usually go to watering-places in the summer, and I doubt if they’d want to come here.”
“Oh, pshaw, Betty!” said Jack. “They’d like to come, just to see you. And Denniston Hall is a lovely place. A flock of girls ought to be able to make fun for themselves here.”
“That’s so,” said Betty; “anyhow, I’ll ask them, and if they don’t want to come, they can decline. I’ll ask Constance too, and perhaps Lena—that is, if you are willing, Mother.”
“Do,” said her mother. “Make it a little house-party. With picnics and drives you can make it pleasant for them, I’m sure.”
Just then Agnes Graham and her brother Stub came strolling up the driveway, and heartily welcomed the Denniston people back to their summer home.
“You’re just in time,” said Agnes, as the young people grouped themselves in the wicker chairs on the veranda or in the swinging settee; “have you heard about the Library Benefit?”