sed. The doctor says so. Now surely you will stay."

There was a long pause. The little music teacher's eyes had left Billy's
face and were circling the room, wistfully lingering on the hangings of
filmy lace, the dainty wall covering, and the exquisite water colors in
their white-and-gold frames. At last she drew a deep sigh.

"Yes, I'll stay," she breathed rapturously; "but--you must let me help."

"Help? Help what?"

"Help you; your letters, your music-copying, your accounts--anything,
everything. And if you don't let me help,"--the music teacher's
voice was very stern now--"if you don't let me help, I shall go home
just--as--soon--as--I--can--walk!"

"Dear me!" dimpled Billy. "And is that all? Well, you shall help, and to
your heart's content, too. In fact, I'm not at all sure that I sha'n't
keep you darning stockings and making puddings all the time," she added
mischievously, as she left the room.

Miss Hawthorn sat up the next day. The day following, in one of Billy's
"fluttery wrappers," as she called them, she walked all about the room.
Very soon she was able to go down-stairs, and in an astonishingly short
time she fitted into the daily life as if she had always been there. She
was, moreover, of such assistance to Billy that even she herself could
see the value of her work; and so she stayed, content.

The little music teacher saw a good deal of Billy's friends then,
particularly of the Henshaw brothers; and very glad was Billy to see the
comradeship growing between them. She had known that William would
be kind to the orphan girl, but she had feared that Marie would not
understand Bertram's nonsense or Cyril's reserve. But very soon Bertram
had begged, and obtained, permission to try to reproduce on canvas the
sheen of the fine, fair hair, and the veiled bloom of the rose-leaf skin
that were Marie's greatest charms; and already Cyril had unbent from his
usual stiffness enough to play to her twice. So Billy's fears on that
score were at an end.

CHAPTER XXXI

THE ENGAGEMENT OF ONE

Many times during those winter days Billy thought of Marie's words: "But
what if the man and the music both happen to be on the same side?" They
worried her, to some extent, and, curiously, they pleased and displeased
her at the same time.

She told herself that she knew very well, of course, what Marie meant:
it was Cyril; he was the man, and the music. But was Cyril beginning
to care for her; and did she want him