Miss Billys Decision | Page 9

did.
``Sorry! Oh, never, Bertram! It's only that it won't be ours any longer--that is, it won't belong to just our two selves. Everybody will know it. And they'll bow and smile and say `How lovely!' to our faces, and `Did you ever?' to our backs. Oh, no, I'm not sorry, Bertram; but I am--afraid.''
``_Afraid_--Billy!''
``Yes.''
Billy sighed, and gazed with pensive eyes into the fire.
Across Bertram's face swept surprise, consternation, and dismay. Bertram had thought he knew Billy in all her moods and fancies; but he did not know her in this one.
``Why, Billy!'' he breathed.
Billy drew another sigh. It seemed to come from the very bottoms of her small, satin-slippered feet.
``Well, I am. You're the Bertram Henshaw. You know lots and lots of people that I never even saw. And they'll come and stand around and stare and lift their lorgnettes and say: `Is that the one? Dear me!' ''
Bertram gave a relieved laugh.
``Nonsense, sweetheart! I should think you were a picture I'd painted and hung on a wall.''
``I shall feel as if I were--with all those friends of yours. Bertram, what if they don't like it?'' Her voice had grown tragic again.
``Like it!''
``Yes. The picture--me, I mean.''
``They can't help liking it,'' he retorted, with the prompt certainty of an adoring lover.
Billy shook her head. Her eyes had gone back to the fire.
``Oh, yes, they can. I can hear them. `What, _she_--Bertram Henshaw's wife?--a frivolous, inconsequential ``Billy'' like that?' Bertram!'' --Billy turned fiercely despairing eyes on her lover--``Bertram, sometimes I wish my name were `Clarissa Cordelia,' or `Arabella Maud,' or `Hannah Jane'--anything that's feminine and proper!''
Bertram's ringing laugh brought a faint smile to Billy's lips. But the words that followed the laugh, and the caressing touch of the man's hands sent a flood of shy color to her face.
`` `Hannah Jane,' indeed! As if I'd exchange my Billy for her or any Clarissa or Arabella that ever grew! I adore Billy--flame, nature, and--''
``And naughtiness?'' put in Billy herself.
``Yes--if there be any,'' laughed Bertram, fondly. ``But, see,'' he added, taking a tiny box from his pocket, ``see what I've brought for this same Billy to wear. She'd have had it long ago if she hadn't insisted on waiting for this announcement business.''
``Oh, Bertram, what a beauty!'' dimpled Billy, as the flawless diamond in Bertram's fingers caught the light and sent it back in a flash of flame and crimson.
``Now you are mine--really mine, sweetheart!'' The man's voice and hand shook as he slipped the ring on Billy's outstretched finger.
Billy caught her breath with almost a sob.
``And I'm so glad to be--yours, dear,'' she murmured brokenly. ``And--and I'll make you proud that I am yours, even if I am just `Billy,' '' she choked. ``Oh, I know I'll write such beautiful, beautiful songs now.''
The man drew her into a close embrace.
``As if I cared for that,'' he scoffed lovingly.
Billy looked up in quick horror.
``Why, Bertram, you don't mean you don't --care?''
He laughed lightly, and took the dismayed little face between his two hands.
``Care, darling? of course I care! You know how I love your music. I care about everything that concerns you. I meant that I'm proud of you _now_--just you. I love you, you know.''
There was a moment's pause. Billy's eyes, as they looked at him, carried a curious intentness in their dark depths.
``You mean, you like--the turn of my head and the tilt of my chin?'' she asked a little breathlessly.
``I adore them!'' came the prompt answer.
To Bertram's utter amazement, Billy drew back with a sharp cry.
``No, no--not that!''
``Why, _Billy!_''
Billy laughed unexpectedly; then she sighed.
``Oh, it's all right, of course,'' she assured him hastily. ``It's only--'' Billy stopped and blushed. Billy was thinking of what Hugh Calderwell had once said to her: that Bertram Henshaw would never love any girl seriously; that it would always be the turn of her head or the tilt of her chin that he loved--to paint.
``Well; only what?'' demanded Bertram.
Billy blushed the more deeply, but she gave a light laugh.
``Nothing, only something Hugh Calderwell said to me once. You see, Bertram, I don't think Hugh ever thought you would--marry.''
``Oh, didn't he?'' bridled Bertram. ``Well, that only goes to show how much he knows about it. Er--did you announce it--to him?'' Bertram's voice was almost savage now.
Billy smiled.
``No; but I did to his sister, and she'll tell him. Oh, Bertram, such a time as I had over those notes,'' went on Billy, with a chuckle. Her eyes were dancing, and she was seeming more like her usual self, Bertram thought. ``You see there were such a lot of things I wanted to say, about what a dear you were, and how much I--I liked you, and that you had such lovely eyes, and a nose--''
``Billy!'' This time it was Bertram who was sitting erect in pale horror.
Billy