Hilma's face beamed through her tears. She was speechless with joy, but she seized Betty's slim brown hand and kissed it loudly.
"What larks!" "Is it a joke?" "Betty, you're the handsomest butler!"
Betty, in a white shirt-waist suit, a jolly red bow pinned on her white apron, and a little cap cocked on her dark hair, waved them to their seats at the holly-decked table.
"Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!"
"Nobody is ill, Betty?" Rosamond asked, anxiously.
"If I had three guesses, I should use every one that our maid wanted to go into town for the day, and Betty took her place." It was Miss Hyle's calm voice.
Betty blushed. It was her turn now to flash back a glance; and those two sparks kindled the fire of friendship.
It was a jolly Christmas dinner, with the "butler" eating with the family.
"And now the dishes!" thought Betty. It must be admitted the "washing up" after a Christmas dinner of twelve is not a subject for much joy.
"I propose we all help Betty wash the dishes!" cried Rosamond Howitt.