Betty's Happy Year. Wells Carolyn

taxicab will not hold us all,” said Betty’s mother, “so, Lisette, you take the young ladies and Master James in that one, and, Jack, will you kindly call that electric hansom for you and me?”

      Proud to be of service, Jack beckoned to the hansom driver, and soon the two vehicles were whizzing away to the Plaza Hotel, where rooms had been engaged for the party.

      “Well, if this isn’t great!” said Stub Graham, who, though addressed by Lisette as “Master James,” was “Stub” to the others. “I say, Betty, you’re the brickiest sort of a brick to ask us to this splendiferous treat!”

      Betty smiled happily. She was looking out at the hurrying throngs of people, the tall buildings, the gay shop-windows, and the jam of traffic, with unspeakable delight in the novelty and excitement of the scene.

      “And to think of three days of this gorgeousness! Three whole days!” said Agnes, squeezing Betty’s arm in her glee.

      They soon reached the hotel and found Betty’s mother and Jack already there and waiting for them in the great entrance-hall.

      Betty was a little awed by the splendor all about her, and Agnes and Stub were frankly delighted, and looked around with undisguised interest.

      But Jack, feeling a new responsibility as the escort of Mrs. McGuire, had, quite unconsciously, acquired a manner as of one accustomed to elaborate hotels and in no way impressed by them. He seemed quite at home and he paid no attention to the surroundings, but in a simple, unaffected, but perfectly correct fashion, he stood by Betty’s mother, carrying her wrap gracefully over his arm, and holding himself in readiness to obey her slightest wish.

      “Where did Jack get that manner?” thought Betty, in amazement, and then she realized that he was acquiring it merely by association with her mother, and through a natural ability to adapt to himself her innate refinement and gracious ways.

      Betty was impulsive herself and now, though secretly moved to mirth by Jack’s quiet elegance of manner, she resolved to try harder to improve her own demeanor.

      They all went at once to the rooms reserved for them, a beautiful apartment overlooking Central Park.

      It was quite a little home of itself, as there was a comfortable sitting-room, attractive dining-room, and four bedrooms with dressing-rooms and baths.

      A large room with two beds was allotted to Betty and Agnes, and a similar one across the entrance-hall was for the two boys. Lisette had a small room opening from Mrs. McGuire’s own which adjoined the girls’ room. In a short time bags and trunks were unpacked and a few individual belongings scattered about, and the apartment seemed quite like a private home.

      “Why do we have a dining-room?” asked Betty. “Can’t we eat in the big restaurant down-stairs?”

      “Sometimes, if you choose,” said her mother. “But I think our Christmas dinner is a personal sort of feast, and I’d like it better here by ourselves.”

      “So should I,” agreed Jack. “Lots more fun, Betty.”

      “But we’ll dine down-stairs to-night,” went on Mrs. McGuire; “so skip away, girlies, and put on pretty frocks for the occasion.”

      “Isn’t it larks!” said Betty, as she and Agnes went to their room to dress. “Look at the beautiful Park! To-morrow we’ll take a ride in it. I wish we could go to-night.”

      “I don’t want to go to-night,” returned Agnes. “I’d rather stay here in this beautiful hotel. There’s so much to see.”

      “So there is. Hurry and dress. What are you going to wear?”

      “I brought my blue voile,” said Agnes. “Mother thought that would be right.”

      “So it is; you look lovely in blue. I’m wearing this Dresden silk. They go nicely together.”

      Betty expeditiously arranged herself in the pretty light silk frock, and the girls hooked each other up and tied each other’s hair-ribbons, so that when Lisette came to offer her services, they were quite unnecessary. The boys, too, had made good time with their dressing and awaited the girls in the sitting-room.

      “Oh, I wish we were going to dance!” said Agnes. “But I suppose we couldn’t in a hotel.”

      “We can dance up here after dinner,” said Jack. “Mother will play for us, I am sure; for see, there’s a piano here!”

      Though an adopted son, Mrs. McGuire had asked Jack to call her “Mother,” and the boy had been only too glad to do so.

      “Play for you? Of course I will,” said the lady herself, entering the sitting-room. “And now we will go down to dinner. Lisette will stay here in charge of everything.”

      Jack sprang to open the door.

      He held it open till the last of his party went through it, and then he closed it and followed them. Somehow he was again in place to push the elevator bell, and Mrs. McGuire looked at him with pride as she noticed his quiet quickness and graceful ways.

      Dinner was a delightful experience. Betty was a little bewildered by the array of silver and glass, and Stub frankly inquired which fork to use first, but Jack seemed to know by intuition.

      “I’d like to live in a place like this always,” said Stub, as he ate his ice-cream.

      “So wouldn’t I,” said Jack. “A hotel is all very well for a few days, but it isn’t a home.”

      “That’s so,” agreed Agnes; “I suppose we’d get tired of it if we had it all the time.”

      “Well, it’s good enough for me,” returned Stub. “When I’m a man, I’m going to live in one. I don’t see many boys here, though,” he added, looking round.

      “No,” said Mrs. McGuire, smiling; “most boys prefer a home.”

      And then dinner was over, and they all strolled through the hotel corridor and bought some flowers at the flower-stand, and some illustrated papers at the news-stand, and then went up to their own apartment.

      Mrs. McGuire played the piano for them, and they danced a little, and then, after some planning for the next day’s entertainment, they all went to rest.

      The next day was clear and pleasant, and when breakfast was served in their own dining-room, all the party were ready and eagerly awaiting it.

      “Then it is decided,” said Mrs. McGuire, “that we have our Christmas tree this evening?”

      “Oh, yes,” said Betty; “Christmas eve is the time for a tree, and to-morrow, on Christmas day, we’ll have our feast, our real Christmas dinner. Don’t you think so, Agnes?”

      “Yes, indeed. And then the tree can stay here, can’t it, all day to-morrow? I love to look at a Christmas tree.”

      “So do I,” said Betty. “And as I never had one before, I’ll keep this one as long as I can.”

      It was less than a year since Betty had inherited her fortune, and before that she had been a poor little waif, without money and without a home.

      Her mother’s heart thrilled with gladness to think that Betty would have a tree this year, and she resolved to do everything in her power to make it a beautiful one.

      Very soon after breakfast they started on a shopping expedition.

      Two taxicabs were engaged, and the two girls, with Lisette, occupied one, while Mrs. McGuire and the boys rode in the other.

      Such fun as they had shopping! They fairly tumbled out of one shop into another. The tree had been ordered from the hotel, but they bought ornaments and candles and festoons of tinsel rope, and Mrs. McGuire bought some other things secretly, as she wanted to have some surprises for the young people. Then everybody bought presents for everybody else. Betty found lovely things for the dear ones who had remained at Denniston, and for the faithful servants there, as well.

      She bought presents for her young friends in Greenborough, too, and all these things they had expressed directly home. But the fun was