Paying the cabman and dismissing him, she went straight to her grandfather’s private room and walked in.
“Well, I’ve come home, Grandfather,” she announced cheerfully.
“Bless my soul! Betty, is that you? What are you doing here? Are you ill?”
“No, indeed,” and Betty’s spirits rose at the sight of the dear, familiar face. She threw her arms around his neck, and said:
“Oh, Grandfather, you’ll help me out, won’t you? I couldn’t stay there! Their manners are awful! And they thought I mocked at the lady, but I didn’t. And I know Grandmother won’t like my coming home, but I just had to! So you fix it up with her, won’t you? And what do you think? I haven’t had a scrap of breakfast, and I just couldn’t eat my dinner last night, so I’m fearfully hungry.”
“Bless my soul!” exclaimed Mr. Irving again. “Why, you poor child! Wouldn’t they give you any breakfast?”
“Oh, you don’t understand! I came away before anybody was up. I took the 7.45 from Hillside station, and, you see, coming off suddenly as I did, I—I couldn’t stop for breakfast. Why, Grandfather, I—I ran away!”
“You little rascal! I haven’t the heart to blame you. But, as you suspect, your grandmother won’t be glad! Betty, you’re a caution! Did you have any money with you?”
“Yes, but a girl borrowed twenty dollars last night, so I didn’t have much to spare!”
Mr. Irving shook with laughter.