Lots of times these oil wells, you know, are miles from
a railroad or a post-office. You take that Mr. Littell's advice--he
sounds as if he had a heap of common sense. And whatever they've done
to you, you're looking great, Betty. Pretty, and stylish and--and
different, somehow."
Betty blushed becomingly. She had brightened up amazingly during her
stay in Washington, despite her anxiety about her uncle and, lately,
Bob, The serene and happy life the whole household led under the roof
of "Fairfields" had a great deal to do with this transformation, for
the bickering and pettiness of the daily life at Bramble Farm had
worn Betty's nerves insensibly. She tried to say something of this to
Bob.
"I know," he nodded. "And, Betty, what do you think? I met the old
miser right here in Washington!"
Instinctively Betty glanced behind her.
"You didn't!" she gasped. "Where? Did he--was he angry?"
"Sure! He was raving," replied Bob cheerfully. "What do you think he
accused me of this time? Stealing an unrecorded deed! Did you know
anything about that, Betty?"
Betty described the incident of her delayed letter and told of the
morning she had picked it from the floor and hung up Mr.
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