m. But I've an appointment, and
I'm late now. You shall hear it, though, I promise you, and with the
door wide open," continued the man, as, with a murmured apology, he
passed the girl and hurried down the stairs.

Billy waited until she heard the outer hall door shut; then very softly
she crept through Cyril's open doorway, and crossed the room to the
piano.

CHAPTER XIII

A SURPRISE ALL AROUND

May came, and with it warm sunny days. There was a little balcony at the
rear of the second floor, and on this Mrs. Stetson and Billy sat many a
morning and sewed. There were occupations that Billy liked better than
sewing; but she was dutiful, and she was really fond of Aunt Hannah; so
she accepted as gracefully as possible that good lady's dictum that a
woman who could not sew, and sew well, was no lady at all.

One of the things that Billy liked to do so much better than to sew was
to play on Cyril's piano. She was very careful, however, that Mr. Cyril
himself did not find this out. Cyril was frequently gone from the house,
and almost as frequently Aunt Hannah took naps. At such times it was
very easy to slip up-stairs to Cyril's rooms, and once at the piano,
Billy forgot everything else.

One day, however, the inevitable happened: Cyril came home unexpectedly.
The man heard the piano from William's floor, and with a surprised
ejaculation he hurried upstairs two steps at a time. At the door he
stopped in amazement.

Billy was at the piano, but she was not playing "rag-time," "The Storm,"
nor yet "The Maiden's Prayer." There was no music before her, but under
her fingers "big bass notes" very much like Cyril's own, were marching
on and on to victory. Billy's face was rapturously intent and happy.

"By Jove--Billy!" gasped the man.

Billy leaped to her feet and whirled around guiltily.

"Oh, Mr. Cyril--I'm so sorry!"

"Sorry!--and you play like that!"

"No, no; I'm not sorry I played. It's because you--found me."

Billy's cheeks were a shamed red, but her eyes were defiantly brilliant,
and her chin was at a rebellious tilt. "I wasn't doing any--harm; not if
you weren't here--with your NERVES!"

The man laughed and came slowly into the room.

"Billy, who taught you to play?"

"No one. I can't play. I can only pick out little bits of things in C."

"But you do play. I just heard you."

Billy shrugged her shoulders.

"That was nothing. It was only what I had heard. I was trying to make it
sound like