Miss Billys Decision | Page 9

to her feet.
``Very well, dear. I'll write, of course, as you tell me to; and it's lovely
of you to do it. Now I'll leave you to your letters. I've hindered you far
too long, as it is.''
``You've rested me,'' declared Billy, flinging wide her arms.
Aunt Hannah, fearing a second dizzying whirl impelled by those same
young arms, drew her shawls about her shoulders and backed hastily
toward the hall door.
Billy laughed.
``Oh, I won't again--to-day,'' she promised merrily. Then, as the lady
reached the arched doorway: ``Tell Mary Jane to let us know the day
and train and we'll meet her. Oh, and Aunt Hannah, tell her to wear a
pink--a white pink; and tell her we will, too,'' she finished gayly.
CHAPTER III
BILLY AND BERTRAM
Bertram called that evening. Before the open fire in the living-room he
found a pensive Billy awaiting him--a Billy who let herself be kissed, it

is true, and who even kissed back, shyly, adorably; but a Billy who
looked at him with wide, almost frightened eyes.
``Why, darling, what's the matter?'' he demanded, his own eyes
growing wide and frightened.
``Bertram, it's--done!''
``What's done? What do you mean?''
``Our engagement. It's--announced. I wrote stacks of notes to-day, and
even now there are some left for to-morrow. And then there's--the
newspapers. Bertram, right away, now, everybody will know it.'' Her
voice was tragic.
Bertram relaxed visibly. A tender light came to his eyes.
``Well, didn't you expect everybody would know it, my dear?''
``Y-yes; but--''
At her hesitation, the tender light changed to a quick fear.
``Billy, you aren't--sorry?''
The pink glory that suffused her face answered him before her words
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