ght? You say he's there? Then I won't--Yes, I will, too."
Billy spoke with renewed firmness. "I'll be there right away. Good-by."
And she hung up the receiver, and went to tell Pete to order John and
Peggy at once.

"I suppose I ought to have left Alice and Mr. Arkwright alone together,"
muttered the young wife feverishly, as she hurriedly prepared for
departure. "But I'll make it up to them later. I'm going to give them
lots of chances. But to-day--to-day I just had to go--somewhere!"

At the Annex, with Alice Greggory and Arkwright, Billy sang duets and
trios, and reveled in a sonorous wilderness of new music to her heart's
content. Then, rested, refreshed, and at peace with all the world, she
hurried home to dinner and to Bertram.

"There! I feel better," she sighed, as she took off her hat in her
own room; "and now I'll go find Bertram. Bless his heart--of course he
didn't want me to play when he was so busy!"

Billy went straight to the studio, but Bertram was not there. Neither
was he in William's room, nor anywhere in the house. Down-stairs in
the dining-room Pete was found looking rather white, leaning back in
a chair. He struggled at once to his feet, however, as his mistress
entered the room.

Billy hurried forward with a startled exclamation.

"Why, Pete, what is it? Are you sick?" she cried, her glance
encompassing the half-set table.

"No, ma'am; oh, no, ma'am!" The old man stumbled forward and began
to arrange the knives and forks. "It's just a pesky pain--beggin' yer
pardon--in my side. But I ain't sick. No, Miss--ma'am."

Billy frowned and shook her head. Her eyes were on Pete's palpably
trembling hands.

"But, Pete, you are sick," she protested. "Let Eliza do that."

Pete drew himself stiffly erect. The color had begun to come back to his
face.

"There hain't no one set this table much but me for more'n fifty years,
an' I've got a sort of notion that nobody can do it just ter suit me.
Besides, I'm better now. It's gone--that pain."

"But, Pete, what is it? How long have you had it?"

"I hain't had it any time, steady. It's the comin' an' goin' kind. It
seems silly ter mind it at all; only, when it does come, it sort o'
takes the backbone right out o' my knees, and they double up so's I
have ter set down. There, ye see? I'm pert as a sparrer, now!" And, with
stiff celerity, Pete resumed his task.

His mistress still frowned.

"That isn't right, Pete," she demurred, with a slow shake of