ttle--that way; but--" Suddenly her face cleared.
"Aunt Hannah, I've thought of the very thing. We _will_ take her!"

"Oh, Billy, I couldn't think of letting you do that," demurred Aunt
Hannah. "You're very kind--but, oh, no; not that!"

"Why not? I think it would be lovely; and we can just as well as not.
After Marie is married in December, she can have that room. Until then
she can have the little blue room next to me."

"But--but--we don't know anything about her."

"We know she's your niece, and she's lonesome; and we know she's
musical. I shall love her for every one of those things. Of course we'll
take her!"

"But--I don't know anything about her age."

"All the more reason why she should be looked out for, then," retorted
Billy, promptly. "Why, Aunt Hannah, just as if you didn't want to give
this lonesome, unprotected young girl a home!"

"Oh, I do, of course; but--"

"Then it's all settled," interposed Billy, springing to her feet.

"But what if we--we shouldn't like her?"

"Nonsense! What if she shouldn't like us?" laughed Billy. "However, if
you'd feel better, just ask her to come and stay with us a month. We
shall keep her all right, afterwards. See if we don't!"

Slowly Aunt Hannah got to her feet.

"Very well, dear. I'll write, of course, as you tell me to; and it's
lovely of you to do it. Now I'll leave you to your letters. I've
hindered you far too long, as it is."

"You've rested me," declared Billy, flinging wide her arms.

Aunt Hannah, fearing a second dizzying whirl impelled by those same
young arms, drew her shawls about her shoulders and backed hastily
toward the hall door.

Billy laughed.

"Oh, I won't again--to-day," she promised merrily. Then, as the lady
reached the arched doorway: "Tell Mary Jane to let us know the day
and train and we'll meet her. Oh, and Aunt Hannah, tell her to wear a
pink--a white pink; and tell her we will, too," she finished gayly.

CHAPTER III. BILLY AND BERTRAM

Bertram called that evening. Before the open fire in the living-room he
found a pensive Billy awaiting him--a Billy who let herself be kissed,
it is true, and who even kissed back, shyly, adorably; but a Billy who
looked at him with wide, almost frightened eyes.

"Why, darling, what's the matter?" he demanded, his own eyes growing
wide and frightened.

"Bertram, it's--done!"

"What's done? What do you mean?"

"Our engagement. It's--announced. I wrote stacks of notes to-day,