ant
for you to hear," admitted Mrs. Hartwell, in response to the dismayed
expression in Billy's eyes; "but I think it's high time you realize
something of what those men have sacrificed for you. Now, to resume.
When they found you were a girl, what did they do? Did they turn you
over to some school or such place, as they should have done? Certainly
not! William would not hear of it. He turned Bertram out of his rooms,
put you into them, and established Aunt Hannah as chaperon and me as
substitute until she arrived. But because, through it all, he smiled
blandly, you have been blind to the whole thing.

"And what is the result? His entire household routine is shattered to
atoms. You have accepted the whole house as if it were your own.
You take Cyril's time to teach you music, and Bertram's to teach you
painting, without a thought of what it means to them. There! I suppose
I ought not to have said all this, but I couldn't help it, Billy. And
surely now, NOW you appreciate a little more what your coming to this
house has meant, and what my brothers have done for you."

"I do, certainly," said Billy, still in that voice that was so oddly
smooth and emotionless.

"And you'll try to be more tractable, less headstrong, less assertive of
your presence?"

The girl sprang to her feet now.

"More tractable! Less assertive of my presence!" she cried. "Mrs.
Hartwell, do you mean to say you think I'd STAY after what you've told
me?"

"Stay? Why, of course you'll stay! Don't be silly, child. I didn't tell
you this to make you go. I only wanted you to understand how things
were--and are."

"And I do understand--and I'm going."

Mrs. Hartwell frowned. Her face changed color.

"Come, come, Billy, this is nonsense. William wants you here. He would
never forgive me if anything I said should send you away. You must not
be angry with, him."

Billy turned now like an enraged little tigress.

"Angry with him! Why, I love him--I love them all! They are the dearest
men ever, and they've been so good to me!" The girl's voice broke a
little, then went on with a more determined ring. "Do you think I'd have
them know why I'm going?--that I'd hurt them like that? Never!"

"But, Billy, what are you going to do?"

"I don't know. I've got to plan it out. I only know now that I'm going,
sure!" And with a choking little cry Billy ran from the room.

In her own chamber a minute later the tears fell unrestrained.

"It's home--all the ho