Betty White spent the first few moments of the drive in watching the strong, easy pulling of the gray horse. Then she turned to Mrs. Danforth with a question which greatly interested her and which she thought there could never be a better time to ask.
Now Betty was the frankest of little girls; so she spoke out very bluntly: “Why do you make Elsa mind so—so hard?”
Mrs. Danforth, being greatly amazed, was surprised into saying “What?”
“Why don’t you let Elsa decide things sometimes for herself?” Betty’s brown eyes met the surprised look in Mrs. Danforth’s blue eyes very fearlessly. “Mother lets me decide things—she says it is good for me to have re-responsibleness.” Betty stumbled a little over the long word, but she kept on: “So if mother tells me I better come home from anywhere about five o’clock, and if I want to stay a little longer, and they want me to, I just stay, and then I tell her afterward, and if she doesn’t like it, we talk it over.”
Betty leaned back against the soft cushions in comfort. This matter was off her mind!
Mrs. Danforth did not give any reply.
“I—I think the other way makes children afraid of you,” Betty added bravely.
Still Mrs. Danforth kept her eyes straight ahead, upon the coachman’s broad shoulders. Presently she asked: “Was that the Holt children’s father in front of their house, Elizabeth?”
“We didn’t come back past the Holts’ house,” Betty replied, “but that couldn’t have been Alice’s and Ben’s father. It must have been the hired man. Mr. Holt is a teacher, and he is way out in the West somewhere, because he isn’t very well. They miss him dreadfully.”