"I am very glad you could come with us, dear," said Mrs. Bell, smiling kindly, "and next year I hope we can take Jack with us too."
"I suppose it isn't a very nice thing to say," Lulu whispered to Winifred, "but I can't help being a little glad Gertie has the measles. I do like Betty ever so much, and I know mamma likes her too."
At the door of the Hamiltons' apartment the children separated, and Betty ran gayly upstairs, thinking of the delightful time she should have living the events of the afternoon all over again in describing them to Jack. She opened the front door with her key, and was just going to call out to her mother and Jack, when something in the unusual stillness of the place caused her to pause suddenly.
"Perhaps mother's lying down," she said to herself, "and Jack doesn't like to make any noise for fear of disturbing her. I'll go in softly and see."
She stole on tiptoe to the sitting room door, and peeped in. Her mother was not there, but Jack was lying on the sofa as usual. At sight of her the little fellow started up and held out his arms. One glance at his face was enough to convince Betty that something had happened.
"What is it, Jack?" she whispered, running to his side, and beginning to tremble with a strange new sensation, but whether of joy or fear she did not know. "What makes you look so—so queer? Where's mother?"
"Mother's in her room," said Jack; "she shut the door; she's gone to lie down, I guess." His voice trembled, and he hid his face on Betty's shoulder.
"But something has happened, I know it has," persisted Betty, trembling more than ever. "Oh, Jack, what is it?"
"Betty," said Jack softly, "do you remember what you said the other day, about—about the thing that would make you happier than anything else, even than mother's getting well?"
"You mean the thing about you—oh, Jack, you mean about your being made to walk?"