One day in the second week in September, Betsy stood by a window in her cottage and saw Rosalie, in hat and street dress, enter the garden. She watched the girl unnoticed, and saw her turn and look seaward. Clouds were scudding along the sky, and swallows circling against the strong breeze. Presently Rosalie came up the path.
Betsy threw open the door. “Welcome home!” she said, and embraced her.
“I’m the most fortunate girl in the world,” declared Rosalie.
Betsy took the bag she carried. “Let me show you your room,” she said.
With happy pride she led the guest up the narrow stairs, and ushered her into a comfortable little bower, hung in white dimity.
Rosalie turned, and gave her hostess another hug. “Why should you be so good to me?” she exclaimed.
“Because you’re all the little girl I’ve got,” returned Betsy. “See what a nice cozy corner that makes for your trunk!”
Rosalie regarded her affectionately. “I have the greatest news for you,” she said. “I can only stay two days.”