As the car rolled up to the curb and stopped once more before the Hostess House, Betty waved her hand to an upper window.
"There's Mrs. Sanderson," she explained as they got out of the automobile. "She looks kind of pathetic sitting up there all alone."
"She always looks pathetic to me," sighed Amy, winding an arm about the Little Captain as they ascended the steps. "But everybody looks sadder and more forlorn than usual the past few days."
"Well, we can't be sad and forlorn any longer," said Betty determinedly. "We came here to cheer people up, you know, and how we're going to do it by being doleful ourselves, I don't know. So, in the words of the vulgar—'here goes.' How's that?"
"That" was a rather forced and pitiful little smile, but it brought an answering one from Amy and another warm hug.
"You're just wonderful, Betty!" she said lovingly, "and we'll do just whatever you say. If you want us to smile, we'll smile, that's all. Of course, we have tried, but we'll try still harder."
Betty hugged back, and they went up the stairs toward the old familiar room, feeling better and more cheerful for their renewed good resolutions.
For a while the girls were busy unpacking the books and putting them in place. Then Betty announced her intention of calling on Mrs. Sanderson.
"I can't bear to think of her in there by the window all alone," she said. "It has been awfully hard for her to watch all those boys going away, knowing that her Willie wasn't among them. I might be able to comfort her a little."
"Let me go too," begged Amy, and arm in arm the two girls went on their little mission of kindness.