She flung open the front door
and catapulted into Aunt Abigail just coming out. It was like flinging
herself into a feather-bed ... .
"Oh! Oh!" she gasped out. "Aunt Frances is going to be married. And
travel around all the time! And she doesn't REALLY want me at all! Can't
I stay here? Can't I stay here?"
Cousin Ann was right behind Aunt Abigail, and she heard this. She looked
over their shoulders toward Aunt Frances, who was approaching from
behind, and said, in her usual calm and collected voice: "How do you do,
Frances? Glad to see you, Frances. How well you're looking! I hear you
are in for congratulations. Who's the happy man?"
Betsy was overcome with admiration for her coolness in being able to
talk so in such an exciting moment. She knew Aunt Abigail couldn't have
done it, for she had sat down in a rocking-chair, and was holding Betsy
on her lap. The little girl could see her wrinkled old hand trembling on
the arm of the chair.
"I hope that means," continued Cousin Ann, going as usual straight to
the point, "that we can keep Betsy here with us."
"Oh, would you like to?" asked Aunt Frances, fluttering, as though the
idea had never occurred to her before that minute. "Would Elizabeth Ann
really LIKE to stay?"
"Oh, I'd LIKE to, all right!" said Betsy, looking confidently up into
Aunt Abigail's face.
Aunt Abigail spoke now.
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