"Ho, Uncle William! Better wake up, sir. The folks have come!"

Pete cleared his throat.

"Mr. William isn't here, Miss--ma'am," he corrected miserably.

Billy smiled, but she frowned, too.

"Not here! Well, I like that," she pouted; "--and when I've brought him
the most beautiful pair of mirror knobs he ever saw, and all the way
in my bag, too, so I could give them to him the very first thing," she
added, darting over to the small bag she had brought in with her. "I'm
glad I did, too, for our trunks didn't come," she continued laughingly.
"Still, if he isn't here to receive them--There, Pete, aren't they
beautiful?" she cried, carefully taking from their wrappings two
exquisitely decorated porcelain discs mounted on two long spikes.
"They're Batterseas--the real article. I know enough for that; and
they're finer than anything he's got. Won't he be pleased?"

"Yes, Miss--ma'am, I mean," stammered the old man.

"These new titles come hard, don't they, Pete?" laughed Bertram.

Pete smiled faintly.

"Never mind, Pete," soothed his new mistress. "You shall call me 'Miss
Billy' all your life if you want to. Bertram," she added, turning to
her husband, "I'm going to just run up-stairs and put these in Uncle
William's rooms so they'll be there when he comes in. We'll see how soon
he discovers them!"

Before Pete could stop her she was half-way up the first flight of
stairs. Even then he tried to speak to his young master, to explain
that Mr. William was not living there; but the words refused to come. He
could only stand dumbly waiting.

In a minute it came--Billy's sharp, startled cry.

"Bertram! Bertram!"

Bertram sprang for the stairway, but he had not reached the top when he
met his wife coming down. She was white-faced and trembling.

"Bertram--those rooms--there's not so much as a teapot there! Uncle
William's--gone!"

"Gone!" Bertram wheeled sharply. "Pete, what is the meaning of this?
Where is my brother?" To hear him, one would think he suspected the old
servant of having hidden his master.

Pete lifted a shaking hand and fumbled with his collar.

"He's moved, sir."

"Moved! Oh, you mean to other rooms--to Cyril's." Bertram relaxed
visibly. "He's upstairs, maybe."

Pete shook his head.

"No, sir. He's moved away--out of the house, sir."

For a brief moment Bertram stared as if he could not believe what his
ears had heard. Then, step by step, he began to descend the stairs.

"Do you mean--t