Betty's Battles: An Everyday Story

"Surely, Bob will not be cross with me to-day. Surely, father will smile when he kisses me, and mother will make a real effort to finish her work earlier. But Grannie's letter w...

"It has been much easier than I thought," says Betty to herself, a week or two after her first back-yard meeting. The fourth has just been held, and the girls have taken to it w...

"Every one has a right place," thinks Betty, when her morning's work is done. "Yes, that sounds true enough, but how am I to manage in our house? I wish Captain had explained mo...

Already Grannie seems far away. The little white cottage is hidden among those great moors yonder. She can see them still, although they are growing fainter every minute, fading...

For some days after father's return Betty has eyes and ears for scarcely anyone else. To see his dear face, to listen to his dear voice, is such a true delight to her!

Mr. Duncan offers to give Betty a third part of her father's usual earnings. The rent-collecting will occupy three long mornings in the week at least, and an hour or two of ever...

The morning is bright and clear, and just one glint of sunshine has actually found its way into the room. Betty sits up in bed. She has slept soundly all night, and feels thorou...

"Oh, how thankful I am that I don't live in that horrid, narrow street, like those poor wretched-looking women and children!" she thinks. Even one morning's work among people so...

Betty stands gazing at the ambulance, as it passes steadily out of sight, and a feeling of deep loneliness sweeps over her heart. No one loves her, no one understands her as fat...

"Yes, now, indeed, I will try what love can do! Now I really will keep my temper whatever happens; now love shall speak for me however aggravating things may be!"

Autumn and winter have passed since Lucy's illness, and Clara's conversion. Save for a slight limp, father's knee is well again, and Bob's progress with his music is quite wonde...

Betty's bag stands by the gate. Betty herself roams restlessly about the little garden, while Betty's Grannie shades her gentle old eyes from the morning sunshine, and peers dow...

"Father coming home?" cries Betty, as Mrs. Langdale folds up the letter, from which she has just read an extract, "O mother, how beautiful, coming home the day after to-morrow!"

"Clara, you must tell me what it is. I can't have you going about the house with this miserable face--just when you were beginning to get on so much better, too."