"Did you meet them, too?" asked Selma, a little impressed with Betty's opportunity.

"Yes, I went with Father to the boat. He thought it would be better, since Miss Coletti was coming, too."

"What is the girl called, Betty?" asked Peggy.

"Lucia."

"I didn't mean that. Hasn't she any t.i.tle, too?"

"I don't know what they call her over in Italy, or at the school in Switzerland that she has been attending. But her mother say that she is to be Lucia Coletti, or Miss Coletti at school. She wants to come to Lyon High; but I don't suppose they will hurry about it."

"Are they really going to send her to a _public_ school?" asked Mathilde in a shocked tone.

"That shows what you really think of the public school, Mathilde Finn,"

said Dotty, not unpleasantly, but with firmness.

"Suppose I _do_," returned Mathilde, a question in her tone, as well as a bit of resentment.

"Well," said Dotty, "all I have to say is that there are _some_ who would call that _sn.o.bbish_!"

"All right, if you think that, Dotty Bradshaw, think away!"

This was getting a little too warm for comfort and Betty spoke again. "I think we must all be nice to Lucia, for she will not know what to do, she says, and besides, she will be terribly homesick. When I first saw her she was both seasick, or just getting over it, and homesick, too.

But her mother says that Lucia is going to have a taste of American democracy."

"She will probably get all she wants of it here," sarcastically said Mathilde. "But Betty Lee is right--we must all be friendly."

Kathryn nudged Betty again. "_She_ will, all right," Kathryn whispered, "the little sn.o.b!"

Betty gave a sideway smile at Kathryn and whispered, "Tut-tut!" But Kathryn's eyes were twinkling and her expression not as unpleasant as her words.

"My mother was at school with Miss Murchison, I think," Mathilde continued. "She will probably call upon the countess."

"And you ought to go with her, Mathilde," wickedly added Kathryn.

At this Betty jumped up. It would be better not to say anything more about her trip with the countess and her daughter and maids. Betty had learned since coming to the city that telling all you know, with perfect frankness, was not always wise. There were some understanding people, but also many others who were critical, or at least not at all appreciative. It was sometimes best not to satisfy curiosity or place yourself open to misunderstanding or criticism. It was a courteous Betty who said to Mathilde that she hoped she would enjoy being a soph.o.m.ore "with the rest of us," and to the rest she said she had too much to do at home to stay any longer.

"I'm suffering from an aching void, girls," declared Dotty. "It's past lunch time for me!"

"Come on home with me, Betty," begged Kathryn.

"No, both you come with me," said Carolyn. "I have an arrangement with Cook for a special lunch of something I adore."

"Thank you, girls; I must get back to Mother, besides having a lot of things to see to. Just think, I haven't seen my mother all summer, except just a little while this morning. I have to hear all about how my grandmother is, and d.i.c.k and Doris have actually _grown_ this summer. I can _see_ it, to say nothing of Amy Lou, who is peachier than ever."

"You do love your family, don't you, Betty Lee?" said Carolyn.

"I should think so!"

"Well, come along, Kathryn. Take pity on me and let's have a good old visit together. Peggy, can't you come, too?"

Peggy accepted, and Kathryn gave Betty a meaning look as they separated, taking different cars. "Maybe I'll call you up tonight, Betty," she said.

"Do it, Gypsy," replied Betty.

CHAPTER VI: DOING HER BEST FOR LUCIA

No message came from Kathryn, and Betty had scarcely time to think of whether "Gypsy" had had an opportunity to find out anything further about Peggy's reported speech. How wonderful it was to have Mother at home again! Betty had missed her presence and advice and help so many times, fun though it was to take the helm herself. Still, it hadn't always been so _much_ fun.

Now clothes for school, countless little errands, decisions, and the work of settling into the routine again engaged Mrs. Lee and the rest of them. Jelly and fruit canned at the farm was a great a.s.set for the coming season. Grandma was ever so much better; but a good stout woman was now installed in the old home. d.i.c.k had really been of great help and Doris had learned to do many things. Amy Lou had been a "lamb" and had learned to read with Grandma. She was "five years old and reading in a primer!"

To tell the truth, Betty thought Doris was very cross at present, but then she might still be resentful about her little flare-up at the last of her stay with Betty. Betty had apologized for her own share in it, but the fact was that Doris had been most to blame. They had parted friends, but Betty felt that her sister had certain reserves with her and was not warmly affectionate, though she had seemed glad enough to see her on first arrival.

However, Doris would probably get over it. Betty thought that she'd better not pay any attention to any grumblings or cross speeches. Dear me--it was hard enough to keep patience over things at times. How did Mother ever do it? She must put most of her time and thought on having the family machinery run smoothly. And Betty was quite right, though a great purpose for one's children helps any father and mother through.

A telephone message from Countess Coletti to Betty that evening was one feature of affairs. "h.e.l.lo--oh--yes'm, this is Betty." Betty was wishing that she had not said "h.e.l.lo" _quite_ as if she were answering a call from Kathryn. Betty flushed with embarra.s.sment as she listened to the first few words from Countess Coletti.

"I am wondering, Miss Betty, if we stop for you with the car tomorrow morning, you will be willing to go with Lucia and me to interview the princ.i.p.al of Lyon High a little before school begins. I should like to have you go around with Lucia and I think I could get you excused from your cla.s.ses."

Betty had her doubts about that, but she did not express them. Perhaps Mr. Murchison's sister could manage it, but the public schools were not like that. They went on regardless of countesses and influential people in general, so far as the daily schedule was concerned; and Betty had had reason to know how particular her princ.i.p.al was about the regular program of every student. Still, as it was a little unusual--it would be fun to take Lucia in charge. Betty could imagine how eyebrows would lift at her and demure glances of her friends in cla.s.ses of her own would meet her.

All these thoughts rapidly ran through her mind as she listened to what further Countess Coletti had to say. Oh, then Lucia's credits were already in the hands of the princ.i.p.al.

"I see, Countess Coletti," Betty's clear voice made reply. "I shall be very glad to do anything--oh, yes, I shall be ready to go with you early. Certainly. I'll find out everything as soon as I see Lucia's schedule, and meet her at lunch and--oh, well, that is as the princ.i.p.al says, I suppose. Yes, Countess Coletti. Good-bye."

"My me!" Betty turned from the telephone to see d.i.c.k's grin.

"What do you have to do now, Betty, act as nursemaid to the countess'

daughter?"

"Just about, d.i.c.k! No, I needn't say that, either. I imagine that Lucia has a lot of grit herself; though that wasn't my first impression. But anybody would feel lost in such a big school. I did, and I hadn't been to private school all my life, either."

Betty went on into the living room and dining room from the hall where she had been using the telephone. Doris was busy with her lessons there at the big table, which was usually cleared of anything else for school books and papers. Any one who wanted real privacy could go to bedroom or den, as the case might be. d.i.c.k had a small set of shelves in his den, and the girls had a similar set in their bedroom.

Doris did not look up as Betty sat down by her and took up her geometry, though Betty knew that she must have heard the conversation, or Betty's part of it, since the wide doors between dining room and the front room were open, as well as the hall entrance, never closed, for the good reason that it could not be.

d.i.c.k was calling up one of the boys now, to make sure of an a.s.signment.

Presently he, too, was back at the table. "We're in high society now, Dorry," said he. "Didja hear Betty talking to the countess?"

"Ye-ah," drawled Doris. "I think my mother is better than any countess, so we needn't get worked up about it."

Betty drew a figure on her sheet of paper. Little Dory was jealous! It _was_ a shame. Here she had been to New York and had had all the fun!

But Betty need not have felt self-reproachful. She had earned her trip to New York by her own pleasant spirit, much real effort that to some girls would have been very trying, and by overcoming some loneliness in times when company was lacking. Doris would have her turn, in a family where fairness was characteristic of its parents. But it was just as well for Betty to be thinking about her sister now, instead of herself.