little laugh, which
even to his own ears did not sound altogether natural.

And then, when the girl had swung slowly around, he walked up toward her
and leaning one elbow on the piano, with his eyes down, continued
speaking, without giving his companion the opportunity even for greeting
him.

"Polly," he said, "I have just heard that Miss Adams has invited you to
go abroad with her this summer and that your mother has refused to let
you accept. But I cannot entirely believe this last part of my news. I
don't dare unless you tell me."

[Illustration: THERE WAS A SLIGHT SOUND FROM HIS LISTENER]

There was a slight sound from his listener, an effort at interruption,
but the young man went on without regarding it.

"I did not mean to speak to you so soon. I know you are too young and I
expected to wait another year. And certainly you have not given me much
encouragement. Sometimes I have not felt that you liked me any better
than when first we knew each other. But you can't have completely
forgotten what I said to you that day in the woods two years ago. And
you know I never change my mind. Now I can't bear to have you go so far
away from Woodford without saying again that I care for you, Polly, in
spite of our sometimes disagreeing about things and that I will do my
level best to make you happy if you, if you----"

But the girl at the piano had risen and Billy now lifted his eager blue
eyes to her face. Immediately his expression changed, the hot blood
poured into his cheeks, and he moved forward a few steps. Then he stood
still with his hands hanging limply at his sides.

For the girl, whose pallor showed even in the semi-darkness of the room
and whose lips trembled so that it was difficult for her to command her
voice, was not Polly O'Neill! Although her hair was almost equally dark,
her chin was less pointed, her lips less scarlet and her whole
appearance gentler and more appealing.

"I am sorry," Mollie O'Neill faltered, "I did not understand when you
began, Billy, or I should not have listened. But I didn't dream that you
and Polly--oh, I didn't suppose that people could quarrel as you do and
yet be fond of each other. And you were my friend, Billy, and Polly is
my twin sister. I cannot understand why one of you did not tell me how
you felt without waiting to have me find out like this." And in spite of
her struggle for self-control, there was a break in Mollie O'Neill's
soft voice that Billy would have given