"Now we're friends. And,
remember, I'm always ready to give advice or listen. That's what
fathers and uncles are for, you know. And I'd like to have you look
on me as a second Uncle Dick."
Thus encouraged, Betty briefly outlined for him her story, touching
lightly on her experiences at Bramble Farm, but going into detail
about Bob Henderson, her uncle, and her pleasant recollections of
Pineville.
By the time she had finished, the four girls had joined them on the
terrace and presently a table was brought out and spread with a
cloth, and, Mrs. Littell following the maid with a silver coffee urn,
breakfast was served.
"The girls will want to go into town to-day, I suppose," said the
motherly lady, selecting the brownest muffin for Betty and signaling
her husband to see that the maid served her an extra portion of
omelet. "I have some shopping to do, so I'll go in with them in the
car. But I absolutely refuse to 'do' the Monument again."
"Poor mother!" laughed Bobby. "She hates to ride in an elevator, and
yet I know by actual count she's gone up in the Monument a dozen
times."
"I suppose every one who comes to Washington wants to go
sightseeing," said Betty Littell, or, as she must begin to be called
now, Libbie, "I know how it is in our little town at home.
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