Page:Dorothy Canfield - Understood Betsy.djvu/303

Rh radiance on Uncle Henry bent seriously over the checker-board, on Molly's blooming, round cheeks and bright hair, on Aunt Abigail's rosy, cheerful, wrinkled old face, and on Cousin Ann's quiet, clear, dark eyes. . ..

That room was full to the brim of something beautiful, and Betsy knew what it was. Its name was Happiness.