adstrong. At all events, there
was constant friction. He went away once and stayed two whole months. I
shall never forget the utter freedom and happiness of those months for
us, with the whole house to ourselves. No, William, I can't come." She
rose abruptly and turned toward the door. Her eyes were wistful, and
her face was still drawn with suffering; but her whole frail little self
quivered plainly with high resolve. "John has Peggy outside. I must go."

"But--but, Aunt Hannah," began William, helplessly.

She lifted a protesting hand.

"No, don't urge me, please. I can't come here. But--I believe I won't
close the house till Billy gets home, after all," she declared. The
next moment she was gone, and William, dazedly, from the doorway, was
watching John help her into Billy's automobile, called by Billy and half
her friends, "Peggy," short for "Pegasus."

Still dazedly William turned back into the house and dropped himself
into the nearest chair.

What a curious call it had been! Aunt Hannah had not acted like herself
at all. Not once had she said "Oh, my grief and conscience!" while the
things she _had_ said--! Someway, he had never thought of Aunt Hannah as
being young, and a bride. Still, of course she must have been--once. And
the reason she gave for not coming there to live--the pitiful story
of that outsider in her home! But she was no outsider! She was no
interfering brother of Billy's--

William caught his breath suddenly, and held it suspended. Then he gave
a low ejaculation and half sprang from his chair.

Spunkie, disturbed from her doze by the fire, uttered a purring
"me-o-ow," and looked up inquiringly.

For a long minute William gazed dumbly into the cat's yellow, sleepily
contented eyes; then he said with tragic distinctness:

"Spunkie, it's true: Aunt Hannah isn't Billy's husband's brother, but--I
am! Do you hear? I _am!_"

"Pur-r-me-ow!" commented Spunkie; and curled herself for another nap.

There was no peace for William after that. In vain he told himself that
he was no "interfering" brother, and that this was his home and had been
all his life; in vain did he declare emphatically that he could not go,
he would not go; that Billy would not wish him to go: always before his
eyes was the vision of that little bride of years long gone; always in
his ears was the echo of Aunt Hannah's "I shall never forget the utter
freedom and happiness of those months for us, with the whole house to
ours