one
idol, which he declared would bring her 'heap plenty velly good luckee'
if she received it before she 'got married.' I wouldn't have the
hideous, grinning thing around, but William says it's real jade, and
very valuable, and of course Billy was crazy over it--or pretended to
be). There was no trousseau, either, and no reception. There was no
anything but the bridegroom; and when I tell you that Billy actually
declared that was all she wanted, you will understand how absurdly in
love she is--in spite of all those weeks and weeks of broken engagement
when I, at least, supposed she had come to her senses, until I got that
crazy note from Bertram a week ago saying they were to be married today.

"I can't say that I've got any really satisfactory explanation of the
matter. Everything has been in such a hubbub, and those two ridiculous
children have been so afraid they wouldn't be together every minute
possible, that any really rational conversation with either of them was
out of the question. When Billy broke the engagement last spring none of
us knew why she had done it, as you know; and I fancy we shall be almost
as much in the dark as to why she has--er--mended it now, as you might
say. As near as I can make out, however, she thought he didn't want her,
and he thought she didn't want him. I believe matters were still further
complicated by a girl Bertram was painting, and a young fellow that used
to sing with Billy--a Mr. Arkwright.

"Anyhow, things came to a head last spring, Billy broke the engagement
and fled to parts unknown with Aunt Hannah, leaving Bertram here in
Boston to alternate between stony despair and reckless gayety, according
to William; and it was while he was in the latter mood that he had that
awful automobile accident and broke his arm--and almost his neck. He was
wildly delirious, and called continually for Billy.

"Well, it seems Billy didn't know all this; but a week ago she
came home, and in some way found out about it, I think through
Pete--William's old butler, you know. Just exactly what happened I
can't say, but I do know that she dragged poor old Aunt Hannah down
to Bertram's at some unearthly hour, and in the rain; and Aunt Hannah
couldn't do a thing with her. All Billy would say, was, 'Bertram wants
me.' And Aunt Hannah told me that if I could have seen Billy's face I'd
have known that she'd have gone to Bertram then if he'd been at the top
of the Himalaya Mountains, or at the bottom o