Miss Billy | Page 8

something like a parrot
to me."
Cyril rose to his feet abruptly. He had eaten almost no dinner.
"Very well," he said coldly. "But please remember that I hold you
responsible, Bertram. Whether it's a dog, or a parrot, or--or a monkey, I
shall expect you to keep Spunk down-stairs. This adopting into the
family an unknown boy seems to me very absurd from beginning to
end. But if you and William will have it so, of course I've nothing to
say. Fortunately my rooms are at the TOP of the house," he finished, as
he turned and left the dining-room.
For a moment there was silence. The brows of the younger man were
uplifted quizzically.
"I'm afraid Cyril is bothered," murmured William then, in a troubled
voice.
Bertram's face changed. Stern lines came to his boyish mouth.
"He is always bothered--with anything, lately."
The elder man sighed.
"I know, but with his talent--"
"'Talent'! Great Scott!" cut in Bertram. "Half the world has talent of one
sort or another; but that doesn't necessarily make them unable to live
with any one else! Really, Will, it's becoming serious--about Cyril. He's
getting to be, for all the world, like those finicky old maids that that
young namesake of yours wrote about. He'll make us whisper and walk

on tiptoe yet!"
The other smiled.
"Don't you worry. You aren't in any danger of being kept too quiet,
young man."
"No thanks to Cyril, then," retorted Bertram. "Anyhow, that's one
reason why I was for taking the kid--to mellow up Cyril. He needs it all
right."
"But I had to take him, Bert," argued the elder brother, his face growing
anxious again. "But Heaven only knows what I'm going to do with him
when I get him. What shall I say to him, anyway? How shall I write? I
don't know how to get up a letter of that sort!"
"Why not take him at his word and telegraph? I fancy you won't have
to say 'come' but once before you see him. He doesn't seem to be a
bashful youth."
"Hm-m; I might do that," acquiesced William, slowly. "But wasn't
there somebody--a lawyer--going to write to me?" he finished,
consulting the letter by his plate. "Yes," he added, after a moment, "a
Mr. Harding. Wonder if he's any relation to Ned Harding. I used to
know Ned at Harvard, and seems as if he came from Hampden Falls.
We'll soon see, at all events. Maybe I'll hear to-morrow."
"I shouldn't wonder," nodded Bertram, as he rose from the table.
"Anyhow, I wouldn't do anything till I did hear."

CHAPTER IV
BILLY SENDS A TELEGRAM
James Harding's letter very promptly followed Billy's, though it was
not like Billy's at all. It told something of Billy's property, and
mentioned that, according to Mrs. Neilson's will, Billy would not come

into control of her fortune until the age of twenty-one years was
reached. It dwelt at some length upon the fact of Billy's loneliness in
the world, and expressed the hope that her father's friend could find it
in his heart to welcome the orphan into his home. It mentioned Ned,
and the old college friendship, and it closed by saying that the writer,
James Harding, was glad to renew his acquaintance with the good old
Henshaw family that he had known long years ago; and that he hoped
soon to hear from William Henshaw himself.
It was a good letter--but it was not well written. James Harding's
handwriting was not distinguished for its legibility, and his
correspondents rejoiced that the most of his letters were dictated to his
stenographer. In this case, however, he had elected to use the more
personal pen; and it was because of this that William Henshaw, even
after reading the letter, was still unaware of his mistake in supposing
his namesake, Billy, to be a boy.
In the main the lawyer had referred to Billy by name, or as "the
orphan," or as that "poor, lonely child." And whenever the more
distinctive feminine "her" or "herself" had occurred, the carelessly
formed letters had made them so much like "his" and "himself" that
they carried no hint of the truth to a man who had not the slightest
reason for thinking himself in the wrong. It was therefore still for the
"boy," Billy, that William Henshaw at once set about making a place in
the home.
First he telegraphed the single word "Come" to Billy.
"I'll set the poor lad's heart at rest," he said to Bertram. "I shall answer
Harding's letter more at length, of course. Naturally he wants to know
something about me now before he sends Billy along; but there is no
need for the boy to wait before he knows that I'll take him. Of course he