Exit Betty

d to the newspapers had been somehow sidetracked, and in their place a ghastly story had leaked out which some poor, hard-presse

early garish light looked out of place as if some fairy wand had failed to break the incantation at the right hour and left a piece of Magicland behind. The parlor maid went about uncertainly, scarcely knowing what to do and what to leave undone, and the milk cars, and newsboys, and early laborers began to make a clatter of every day on the streets. The morning paper, flung acros

t Sabbath. She was divided between her desire to robe the exquisite little guest in its pristine folds and her longing to wear it herself. There was a sense of justice also which entered into the matter. If that elegant wedding dress was to be hers, and all those wonderful silk underclothes, which very likely she would never allow herself to wear, for they would be out of place on a poor working girl, it was not fair to repay their donor in old clothes. She decided to give the runaway bride her new blue serge. With just a regretful bit of a sigh she laid it o

uest. With a tender glance toward the sleeper she slipped the key from the lock and placed it in the outside of the door, silently locking her guest wit

aper, thrilling at the thought that there might be something

e a glance at her paper, and there on the

ope W

p at A

sciou

eek Runaway

t to b

stuffing it carelessly into her pocket. She could not read

corners of her sweet mouth, nothing lovelier could be. Jane hurried to the window and turned her back on the bed while she perused the paper, her rage rising at the theories put forth. It was even hinted that her mother had been insane. Jane turned again and looked hard at the young sleeper, and

stranger face of the other girl. In the dim light of the evening she had scarcely got to know Jane

ogether. "I wonder where I could go, Jane?" It was pleasant to call this girl

. "Do you suppose there would be any way I could get money enough to travel somewh

ght had passed and no one had come. Perhaps after a

face se

o travel regular. It wouldn't be safe. And you don't want

mother's, but I guess they'd want me t

t this while I talk," thrusting a plate of buttered toast and a glass of

eave. Mebbe you could help Ma with the kids. Of course we're poor and you ain't used to common things like we have them, but I guess you ain't got much choice in your fix. I got a paper this morning. They're huntin' fer you hot foot. They say you was temperary insane, an' 'f I was you I'd keep out o' their way a while. You lay low an' I'

're so good! To think I should find somebody just like that righ

in'. Ever go to Chrishun Deavor? Better go when you get out home. They have awful good socials an' ice cream, and you'll meet some real nice folks. We've got a

lly be going to live like other girls. Then the shadow of

huddered. "Oh, Jane! You can't understa

They ain't like yours, but it won't do fer you to go dressed like a millionairess. Folks out to Tinsdale would suspect yeh right off the bat. You gotta go plain like me, and it's this way: You're a friend I picked up in the city whose mother is de

arse, elaborately trimmed lingerie with a curious look, and trying not t

ticize, but if you could just talk a little slang or something. Folks'll never think you belong to me. 'I

," said Betty dubio

u don't wear silk onderclothes now. I'm afraid those stockings won't feel very good after yours, but you gotta be careful. An

thoughtfully. "Just three mont

thought had occurred. "Well, you don't look it! You could pass for fifteen,

hout a qualm. "I always wanted it sh

It sounds more-well, natural, you know; not like society talk. Here, sit down and I'll do

ovingly. She knew the exact angle at which the hair should splash out on the cheek to be stylish. She had often contemplated cutting her own, only that her mother had begged her not to, and she realized that her hair w

hen her mentor burnt a cork and put a touch to the eyebrows that made a different Betty out of her. A soft smudge of dark under her eyes and a touch of talcum powder gave her a sickly complexion and when Betty stood up and looked in the glass she did not know herself. Jane finished the toilet by a smart

t nobody'd recognize it. You don't need to tell Ma anything you don't want to, and you can tell her I'll write a letter to-night all about it. Now co

Betty gave one more glance at the slim boylike creature in the little mirror over the washstand and follo