As she said it she felt the blood surge up from the furious heart, and the hand she had laid on the handle of the door of the brougham clutched it involuntarily.
The dowdy little woman answered her indifferently, staring at her a little.
"I am Lady Anstruthers," she said.
Bettina opened the carriage door and stood upon the ground.
"Go on to the house," she gave order to the coachman, and, with a somewhat startled look, he drove away.
"Rosy!" Bettina's voice was a hushed, almost awed, thing.

"YOU are Rosy ?" The faded little wreck of a creature began to look frightened.
"Rosy!" she repeated, with a small, wry, painful smile.
She was the next moment held in the folding of strong, young arms, against a quickly beating heart.

She was being wildly kissed, and the very air seemed rich with warmth and life.
"I am Betty," she heard.

"Look at me, Rosy! I am Betty.

Look at me and remember!" Lady Anstruthers gasped, and broke into a faint, hysteric laugh.