The Abbey Girls at Home

“One for me! A dozen for Chris, as usual,” and Betty McLean laid her sister’s letters on the breakfast-table and sat down. “Mine’s a fat one, anyway!”The sun was streaming into the morning-room, and the windows were wide open to the little garden. Chris, married four months ago and just home from a tour abroad, was fair-haired and pretty; but not so pretty as Betty. Betty, just twenty-one, had soft red hair plaited round her head and a fair freckled skin, and was as Scottish in her type and colouring as she was in her accent and her shy, reserved nature.There was a touch of seriousness in her gray eyes which had come from the experiences of her home life; and Chris, glancing at her as she sat absorbed in her letter, noticed it afresh and wondered how she could banish that look from her younger sister’s face. The invitation to Betty to visit her new home had been given with the idea of “cheering Bets up,” for home was lonely for Betty now.