Why, Aunt Hannah, I'm ashamed of you! To be superstitious like
that--you, a good Presbyterian!"

Aunt Hannah subsided shamefacedly.

"Yes, I know, Billy, it is silly; but I just can't help it."

"Oh, but it's worse than silly, Aunt Hannah," teased Billy, with a
remorseless chuckle. "It's really _heathen!_ Bertram told me once that
it dates 'way back to the time of the Druids--appealing to the god of
trees, or something like that--when you rap on wood, you know."

"Ugh!" shuddered Aunt Hannah. "As if I would, Billy! How is Bertram, by
the by?"

A swift shadow crossed Billy's bright face.

"He's lovely--only his arm."

"His arm! But I thought that was better."

"Oh, it is," drooped Billy, "but it gets along so slowly, and it frets
him dreadfully. You know he never can do anything with his left hand,
he says, and he just hates to have things done for him--though Pete and
Dong Ling are quarreling with each other all the time to do things for
him, and I'm quarreling with both of them to do them for him myself! By
the way, Dong Ling is going to leave us next week. Did you know it?"

"Dong Ling--leave!"

"Yes. Oh, he told Bertram long ago he should go when we were married;
that he had plenty much money, and was going back to China, and not be
Melican man any longer. But I don't think Bertram thought he'd do it.
William says Dong Ling went to Pete, however, after we left, and told
him he wanted to go; that he liked the little Missee plenty well, but
that there'd be too much hen-talk when she got back, and--"

"Why, the impudent creature!"

Billy laughed merrily.

"Yes; Pete was furious, William says, but Dong Ling didn't mean any
disrespect, I'm sure. He just wasn't used to having petticoats around,
and didn't want to take orders from them; that's all."

"But, Billy, what will you do?"

"Oh, Pete's fixed all that lovely," returned Billy, nonchalantly. "You
know his niece lives over in South Boston, and it seems she's got a
daughter who's a fine cook and will be glad to come. Mercy! Look at the
time," she broke off, glancing at the clock. "I shall be late to dinner,
and Dong Ling loathes anybody who's late to his meals--as I found out to
my sorrow the night we got home. Good-by, dear. I'll be out soon again
and fix it all up--about the Annex, you know." And with a bright smile
she was gone.

"Dear me," sighed Aunt Hannah, stooping to pick up the black shawl;
"dear me! Of course everything will be all right--t