The clock struck loudly.  “Well, hear that!” said Cousin Ann.  “Nine o’clock and the children not in bed!  Molly’s most asleep this minute.  Trot along with you, Betsy!  Trot along, Molly.  And, Betsy, be sure Molly’s nightgown is buttoned up all the way.”

So it happened that, although the grown-ups were evidently going on to talk about ’Lias Brewster, Betsy heard no more of what they said.

She herself went on thinking about ’Lias while she was undressing and answering absently little Molly’s chatter.  She was thinking about him even after they had gone to bed, had put the light out, and were lying snuggled up to each other, back to front, their four legs, crooked at the same angle, fitting in together neatly like two spoons in a drawer.  She was thinking about him when she woke up, and as soon as she could get hold of Cousin Ann she poured out a new plan.  She had never been afraid of Cousin Ann since the evening Molly had fallen into the Wolf Pit and Betsy had seen that pleased smile on Cousin Ann’s firm lips.  “Cousin Ann, couldn’t we girls at school get together and sew—­you’d have to help us some—­and make some nice, new clothes for little ’Lias Brewster, and fix him up so he’ll look better, and maybe that Mr. Pond will like him and adopt him?”

Cousin Ann listened attentively and nodded her head.  “Yes, I think that would be a good idea,” she said.  “We were thinking last night we ought to do something for him.  If you’ll make the clothes, Mother’ll knit him some stockings and Father will get him some shoes.  Mr. Pond never makes his spring trip till late May, so we’ll have plenty of time.”

Betsy was full of importance that day at school and at recess time got the girls together on the rocks and told them all about the plan.  “Cousin Ann says she’ll help us, and we can meet at our house every Saturday afternoon till we get them done.  It’ll be fun!  Aunt Abigail telephoned down to the store right away, and Mr. Wilkins says he’ll give the cloth if we’ll make it up.”

Betsy spoke very grandly of “making it up,” although she had hardly held a needle in her life, and when the Saturday afternoon meetings began she was ashamed to see how much better Ellen and even Eliza could sew than she.  To keep her end up, she was driven to practising her stitches around the lamp in the evenings, with Aunt Abigail keeping an eye on her.

Cousin Ann supervised the sewing on Saturday afternoons and taught those of the little girls whose legs were long enough how to use the sewing machine.  First they made a little pair of trousers out of an old gray woolen skirt of Aunt Abigail’s.  This was for practice, before they cut into the piece of new blue serge that the storekeeper had sent up.  Cousin Ann showed them how to pin the pattern on the goods and they each cut out one piece.  Those flat, queer-shaped pieces of cloth certainly did look less like a pair of trousers to Betsy than anything she had ever seen.  Then one of the girls read