But once outside she did not hurry. Very slowly she recrossed the street, entered at the familiar door, and began climbing the long flights of stairs. At the top of the first flight she was stopped by her new friend Winifred.
"I was watching for you," Winifred explained; "I wanted to know if it was all right about the carriage. Oh, what's the matter? Didn't you get it, after all?"
Betty shook her head; she could not speak just then, but all the bright look of pride and happiness had gone out of her face.
"Oh, I'm so sorry," said Winifred sympathetically. "Were the carriages all engaged for the day after to-morrow? Perhaps you could get one at some other stable."
"It isn't that," said Betty, trying hard to steady the quiver in her voice, "but—but they were very expensive—much more expensive than I thought. We couldn't possibly have one."
"How much are they?" Winifred inquired with interest.
"Five dollars, the man said."
"Oh!" and Winifred's eyes opened wide in astonishment; "that is a great deal of money. Uncle Will gave me a five-dollar gold-piece for Easter, and we thought it was very good of him. But if your little brother wants to go so very much, and if it's his birthday, don't you think your mother might possibly let you have the money?"
But Betty shook her head decidedly. "She couldn't possibly," she said, "I know she couldn't." And then all at once her forced composure gave way, and she burst into tears.
"Oh, he'll be so disappointed, so dreadfully disappointed," she sobbed. "Oh, I wish I had never said anything about it to him, but I was so sure a dollar would be enough, and I promised him—I promised him."