I dared not look at Betty for some minutes. When at last I mustered up courage to steal a glance—not a cloud on Betty's face.
Here was courage!
But what the poor child must be going through.—I could not leave her to bear this awful thing alone....
When Hermione had gone I told Bettina that I knew.
She looked at me out of her innocent eyes, and reddened just a little. Then she laughed: "Oh, I don't mind like that!" she said. "He was very nice. But I think I prefer Ranny Dallas."
At first I was sure this was just a brave attempt to bear her suffering alone.
But I was wrong.
Bettina did like Ranny Dallas best!
He liked Bettina, and flirted with her.
I began to see that I had not been looking after Bettina properly.