ed her thread suddenly. She sprang for it at once, before
Cyril could make a move to get it. She had to dive far under a chair
to capture it--which may explain why her face was so very red when she
finally reached her seat again.

On the morning of the tenth, Billy, Marie, and Aunt Hannah were once
more sewing together, this time in the little sitting-room at the end of
the hall up-stairs.

Billy's fingers, in particular, were flying very fast.

"I told John to have Peggy at the door at eleven," she said, after a
time; "but I think I can finish running in this ribbon before then. I
haven't much to do to get ready to go."

"I hope Kate's train won't be late," worried Aunt Hannah.

"I hope not," replied Billy; "but I told Rosa to delay luncheon, anyway,
till we get here. I--" She stopped abruptly and turned a listening
ear toward the door of Aunt Hannah's room, which was open. A clock was
striking. "Mercy! that can't be eleven now," she cried. "But it must
be--it was ten before I came up-stairs." She got to her feet hurriedly.

Aunt Hannah put out a restraining hand.

"No, no, dear, that's half-past ten."

"But it struck eleven."

"Yes, I know. It does--at half-past ten."

"Why, the little wretch," laughed Billy, dropping back into her chair
and picking up her work again. "The idea of its telling fibs like that
and frightening people half out of their lives! I'll have it fixed right
away. Maybe John can do it--he's always so handy about such things."

"But I don't want it fixed," demurred Aunt Hannah.

Billy stared a little.

"You don't want it fixed! Maybe you like to have it strike eleven when
it's half-past ten!" Billy's voice was merrily sarcastic.

"Y-yes, I do," stammered the lady, apologetically. "You see, I--I worked
very hard to fix it so it would strike that way."

"_Aunt Hannah!_"

"Well, I did," retorted the lady, with unexpected spirit. "I wanted to
know what time it was in the night--I'm awake such a lot."

"But I don't see." Billy's eyes were perplexed. "Why must you make it
tell fibs in order to--to find out the truth?" she laughed.

Aunt Hannah elevated her chin a little.

"Because that clock was always striking one."

"One!"

"Yes--half-past, you know; and I never knew which half-past it was."

"But it must strike half-past now, just the same!"

"It does." There was the triumphant ring of the conqueror in Aunt
Hannah's voice. "But now it strikes half-past _on the hour_, and