e been eight six weeks."

Billy's eyes twinkled.

"And you don't remember me, I suppose."

The little girl shook her head.

"No; but I know who you are," she added, with shy eagerness. "You're
going to be my Aunt Billy, and you're going to marry my Uncle William--I
mean, my Uncle Bertram."

Billy's face changed color. Mrs. Hartwell gave a despairing gesture.

"Kate, my dear, I told you to be sure and remember that it was your
Uncle Bertram now. You see," she added in a discouraged aside to Billy,
"she can't seem to forget the first one. But then, what can you expect?"
laughed Mrs. Hartwell, a little disagreeably. "Such abrupt changes from
one brother to another are somewhat disconcerting, you know."

Billy bit her lip. For a moment she said nothing, then, a little
constrainedly, she rejoined:

"Perhaps. Still--let us hope we have the right one, now."

Mrs. Hartwell raised her eyebrows.

"Well, my dear, I'm not so confident of that. _My_ choice has been and
always will be--William."

Billy bit her lip again. This time her brown eyes flashed a little.

"Is that so? But you see, after all, _you_ aren't making the--the
choice." Billy spoke lightly, gayly; and she ended with a bright little
laugh, as if to hide any intended impertinence.

It was Mrs. Hartwell's turn to bite her lip--and she did it.

"So it seems," she rejoined frigidly, after the briefest of pauses.

It was not until they were on their way to Corey Hill some time later
that Mrs. Hartwell turned with the question:

"Cyril is to be married in church, I suppose?"

"No. They both preferred a home wedding."

"Oh, what a pity! Church weddings are so attractive!"

"To those who like them," amended Billy in spite of herself.

"To every one, I think," corrected Mrs. Hartwell, positively.

Billy laughed. She was beginning to discern that it did not do much
harm--nor much good--to disagree with her guest.

"It's in the evening, then, of course?" pursued Mrs. Hartwell.

"No; at noon."

"Oh, how could you let them?"

"But they preferred it, Mrs. Hartwell."

"What if they did?" retorted the lady, sharply. "Can't you do as you
please in your own home? Evening weddings are so much prettier! We can't
change now, of course, with the guests all invited. That is, I suppose
you do have guests!"

Mrs. Hartwell's voice was aggrievedly despairing.

"Oh, yes," smiled Billy, demurely. "We have guests invited--and I'm
afraid we can't change the time.