“And I’ll be a day late at school, if the ship puts off coming in much longer! But Father, I can’t be sorry to have these great days in New York. What shall we do today?”
“We shall see. Wait till I telephone the steamship company at the pier again.”
Then came a telegram from home. A cablegram had been received stating that the countess and her daughter had sailed on a different ship from the one she had written her brother to meet. It was the Statendam, Holland-American line, due Saturday.
That settled it. Mother could not be met. Mr. Lee telegraphed to Mr. Murchison that he would meet the Statendam. To the farm and to the home, in case there was some delay in the country, word went that Mr. Lee and Betty were unavoidably detained in New York. Betty was rather worried about missing school Monday, as was most likely, but she enjoyed the excitement and the extra expeditions due to the delay. It was an ill wind that didn’t blow anybody any good, she remarked. “Can we leave as soon as the ship comes?”
“That, Betty, is in the hands of a very uncertain woman, I judge,” smiled Mr. Lee. “It will be necessary to do whatever Mr. Murchison himself would be obliged to do. I shall handle the matter as well as I can.”
“Are you scared because she is a countess?”
“Scarcely. But be as polite and helpful as you can, Betty. Having you will make it all easier, I think. Privately, Betty, I gathered that Miss Murchison was very badly spoiled as a girl. People exist to do her pleasure. See?”
“And we pretend that we like it?”
“No—it is not necessary to pretend anything. We really want to help them, do we not?”
“Oh, yes; but I dee-spise being patronized.”