Waterbury evening Democrat., 1908-11-14

N N cu-hOAc cASitcu tudh
 I've ever been In my & life, except perhaps when Miss Mackinstry, my last governess, had mysteries in the schoolroom and tainted among the tea things.
 suppose shan't be able to decide ibout the state of my feelings until I've had more of them on the same subject or until I've written down in this book of mine everything exactly IS it's happened. like doing that. It makes things seem so clear when you try to review them afterward.
 The excitement began at breakfast by mother having a letter that she liked. I knew she liked 1t by the way her eyes lighted up, as if they had been lamps and the letter q match. All the other letters, mostly with hor- id, tradesmanny looking envelopes, which had been making her quite glow cry, she pushed aside.
 Mother won't have crown on her envelopes. She thinks it's vulgar. Be tides, putting 1t only on the paper saves expense. This envelope had great pprawly gold crest, but she didn't seem to disapprove of It. She read on and on, then suddenly glanced up as if she would have said something quickly to Victoria. She didn't say 1t, though, tor she remembered me. I am never taken into family conclaves because I'm not out yet. I don't see what diff ference that makes, especially as I'm not to be allowed to come out till after Vics married, because she was pre- tented four years ago and isn't even engaged yet. So for all l can tell I may have to stay in till I'm hundred or leak out slowly when nobody Is mo- ticings as Vic says girls do in the mid ale classes This time I didn't mind, however, for I couldn't see how the letter concerned me, and as I was dy- Ing for sight of Berengaria's puppies, which were born last night, was glad when mother told me not to fdget after I'd finished breakfast, but to run down to the kennels if liked
 Soon forgot all about the letter, for the puppies were the dearest ducks on earth (can puppies be ducks, I won der?. and besides, it was such a de- licious June morning that I could have danced with joy because was alive.
 often feel like that. But there's mo- body to tell, except the trees and the dogs and my poor pony, who is almost too old and second childish now to un- den Id. She was my brother Stan- fort pony first of all, and Stanforth is t., Anty- y-eight. Then she was Vic's, and Vic ls-but mother doesn't like vic's age to be mentioned any more, though she is years younger than Stan.
 took walk in the park and after ward went through the rose garden to see how the roses were getting on. There were lot of petals for my pot pourri. and gathering them has kept me for some time. Then as the jar stands in Vic's and my den (she calls 1t her den, but 1t has to be part mine, as have no other), was going in by one of the long windows when heard mothers voice. ''The question is," she was saying, whats to be done with Betty?"
 turned around and ran away on my hptoes across the lawn, for l didn't want to be an eavesdropper, and it would be nearly as bad to have mother know I had heard even those few words. She would be annoyed. and mother chills me all the way through to my bones when she's annoyed. It Is wonderful how she does It, for she never scolds. But the thermometer simply drops to freezing point, and you feel like a poor little shivering crocus that has come up too soon by mistake to find the world covered with snow and no hops of squeezing back into its own cozy warm bulb again.
 I stopped out of doors till luncheon and played croquet against myself, wishing that Stan would run down, for although Stan rather fancies him. self as a gorgeous person since poor raJner's death gave him the title, he is quite nico to me when it occurs to him. I'm always glad when he comes to the Towers, but he hardly ever does in the season, and then In August and Sep. ten,ber he's always ln Scotland. So Is Vic, for the matter of that, and she hates being in the country in May and June, though Surrey Is so close to town that luckily she doesn't miss much. But this year we seem to have been horribly poor for some reason. Vic says it's Stan's fault. He Is ex. travagant, I suppose. However, as everything is really his, I don't see that we ought to complain. Only it can't be pleasant for him to feel that mother is worrying lest he should marry and make her a frumpy dowager before we two girls are off her hands.
 At luncheon mother mentioned to me that she had wired to ask Mrs. stuyyesant Knox and her cousin, Miss Sally Woodburn, down to dinner and to stay the night. You will be pleas ed, Betty. AS you like Miss Woodburn 60 much" she said.
 Y like her, but I don't like Mrs. stuyvesant- Knox. and I don't know how to pronounce her." said I.
 For goodness sake, don't call her Mrs. Ess Kay to her face again." cut tn Vic.
 T didn't mean to; 1t slipped out" defended myself. Besides it was you who nicknamed her that"