“I’m really leaving Betty in your charge,” he said, and Bob stood fully two inches taller.  “Not that I think she will get into any serious trouble, but there’s no telling what a bevy of high-spirited girls will think up.  And you know what Betty is when once started, she can not be stopped.  I rely on you to keep her confidence and hold her back if she seems inclined to act rashly.  The Littells are splendid people, but they will be five hours’ distance away, while you will be across the lake.  I put my trust in you, Bob.”

Bob silently resolved to be worthy.  Betty had been his first friend, and to her he gave all the pent-up loyalty and starved affection of a lonely boy nature.  When Mr. Gordon came into his life, and especially when he was made his legal guardian, Bob experienced the novel sensation of having some one interested in his future.  Though the various older men he had met were more than willing to help him, Mr. Gordon was the only one to succeed in winning over Bob’s almost fanatical pride and the lad who admired, respected, and loved him, would have done anything in the world for him.

The next few days were extremely busy ones for Bob, the aunts, and Betty.  Miss Hope and Miss Charity were so excited at the prospect of a journey that they completely lost their faculty for planning, and most of the work fell on Bob and Betty.  Luckily there was little packing to be done, for the few bits of old furniture were to be sold for what they would bring, and the keepsakes that neither Miss Hope nor her sister could bring themselves to part with were stored in several old trunks to be housed in the Watterby attic.

“Betty, child,” her uncle’s voice broke in upon Betty’s orderly packing one afternoon, “I know you’re going to be disappointed, but we mustn’t cry over what can’t be helped.  I’ve had a wire and must leave for Chicago Wednesday morning.  You and Bob will have to make the Washington trip alone.”

“I knew it was too good to be true,” mourned Betty, a tear dropping on the yellowed silk shawl she was neatly folding.  “Oh, dear, Uncle Dick, I did want you to go with us part of the way!”

“Better luck next time,” replied Mr. Gordon.  “There’s no use grumbling over what you can’t change.”

This was his philosophy, and he followed it consistently.  Bob and Betty, though keenly disappointed they were not to have his companionship, tried to accept the situation as cheerfully as he did.

The packing was hastened, and soon the old farmhouse was stripped and dismantled, the trunks stored in the Watterby attic, the furniture carried off to the homes of those who bought it, and the key delivered to Dave Thorne, the section foreman, who would deliver it to the superintendent.

The hospitable Watterbys had insisted that the travelers should all stay with them until the time for their several departures, and Bob and Betty had a last glorious ride on Clover and the ungainly white horse while the aunts rested and put the final touches to their preparations for their journey.