Mary's tears had dried, as she listened to these accounts of their frolics at boarding-school and their adventures abroad, and in her interest in them her own affairs had taken their proper proportion.

She was no longer heart-broken over having been discovered by Rob, and she was determined to overcome the sensitiveness and self-consciousness which Betty had pointed out as her great fault.
As she rose to go, Betty opened a drawer in her desk and took out a square, fat diary, bound in red morocco.

"One of the girls gave me this last Christmas," she said.

"I never have used it, because I want to keep my journals uniform in size and binding, and I'll be so glad to have you take it and start a record of your own, if you will." "Oh, I'll begin this very morning!" cried Mary, in delight, throwing her arms around Betty's neck with an impulsive kiss, and trying to express her thanks.
"Then wait till I write my text in it," said Betty, "so that it will always recall my sermon.

I've talked to you as if I were your grandmother, haven't I ?" "You've made me feel a lot more comfortable," answered Mary, humbly, with another kiss as Betty handed her the book.