"
"Thank you, Betty," I said gravely. "I hope I shall deserve your
good opinion of my sense. I shall expect you to do as I tell
you, and be guided by my advice in everything."
"Yes, I will," said Betty, "because I'm sure you won't tell me to
do anything I'd really hate to do. You won't shut me up in a
room and make me sew, will you? Because I won't do it."
I assured her I would not.
"Nor send me to a boarding-school," pursued Betty. "Mother's
always threatening to send me to one. I suppose she would have
done it before this, only she knew I'd run away. You won't send
me to a boarding-school, will you, Stephen? Because I won't go."
"No," I said obligingly. "I won't. I should never dream of
cooping a wild little thing, like you, up in a boarding-school.
You'd fret your heart out like a caged skylark."
"I know you and I are going to get along together splendidly,
Stephen," said Betty, rubbing her brown cheek chummily against my
shoulder. "You are so good at understanding. Very few people
are. Even dad darling didn't understand. He let me do just as I
wanted to, just because I wanted to, not because he really
understood that I couldn't be tame and play with dolls. I hate
dolls! Real live babies are jolly; but dogs and horses are ever
so much nicer than dolls."
"But you must have lessons, Betty. I shall select your teachers
and superintend your studies, and I shall expect you to do me
credit along that line, as well as along all others.
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