"Yes," said Jack eagerly, "and some time we could all go to England, and see the place where mother used to live."
Betty looked a little doubtful.
"I don't know whether mother would like that or not," she said. "You see, when mother lived there she knew father, and now he's dead. It might make her feel badly to go back."
"So it might; I never thought about that, but she might like to see Uncle Jack. I should like to see him, shouldn't you, Betty?"
"Yes; I wonder if we ever shall. Mother doesn't like to have us talk much about him, but I know she loves him very much; her eyes always look that way when she tells us how handsome and splendid he used to be when he was a boy."
"Wouldn't it be nice if Winifred Hamilton came to see us this afternoon," Jack remarked rather irrelevantly; "I do like her very much, don't you?"
"Yes, she's lovely; she said she'd come to see you some day."
"We haven't seen her since the day we went for the drive. Perhaps she's waiting for you to call on her first."
"Mother won't let me go," said Betty regretfully; "she says she's afraid Mrs. Hamilton might not want Winifred to know us."
"But if she hadn't wanted to know us she wouldn't have taken us to drive, would she?"