ust taken off. "Billy, what
are you going to do?"

Billy turned in obvious surprise.

"Why, I'm going to Bertram, of course."

"To Bertram! But it's nearly half-past eight, child, and it rains, and
everything!"

"But Bertram _wants_ me!" exclaimed Billy. "As if I'd mind rain, or
time, or anything else, _now!_"

"But--but--oh, my grief and conscience!" groaned Aunt Hannah, beginning
to wring her hands again.

Billy reached for her coat. Aunt Hannah stirred into sudden action.

"But, Billy, if you'd only wait till to-morrow," she quavered, putting
out a feebly restraining hand.

"To-morrow!" The young voice rang with supreme scorn. "Do you think I'd
wait till to-morrow--after all this? I say Bertram _wants_ me." Billy
picked up her gloves.

"But you broke it off, dear--you said you did; and to go down there
to-night--like this--"

Billy lifted her head. Her eyes shone. Her whole face was a glory of
love and pride.

"That was before. I didn't know. He _wants_ me, Aunt Hannah. Did
you hear? He _wants_ me! And now I won't even--hinder him, if he
can't--p-paint again!" Billy's voice broke. The glory left her face. Her
eyes brimmed with tears, but her head was still bravely uplifted. "I'm
going to Bertram!"

Blindly Aunt Hannah got to her feet. Still more blindly she reached for
her bonnet and cloak on the chair near her.

"Oh, will you go, too?" asked Billy, abstractedly, hurrying to the
window to look for the motor car.

"Will I go, too!" burst out Aunt Hannah's indignant voice. "Do you think
I'd let you go alone, and at this time of night, on such a wild-goose
chase as this?"

"I don't know, I'm sure," murmured Billy, still abstractedly, peering
out into the rain.

"Don't know, indeed! Oh, my grief and conscience!" groaned Aunt Hannah,
setting her bonnet hopelessly askew on top of her agitated head.

But Billy did not even answer now. Her face was pressed hard against the
window-pane.

CHAPTER XXXIII. BERTRAM TAKES THE REINS

With stiffly pompous dignity Pete opened the door. The next moment
he fell back in amazement before the impetuous rush of a starry-eyed,
flushed-cheeked young woman who demanded:

"Where is he, Pete?"

"Miss Billy!" gasped the old man. Then he saw Aunt Hannah--Aunt Hannah
with her bonnet askew, her neck-bow awry, one hand bare, and the other
half covered with a glove wrong side out. Aunt Hannah's cheeks, too,
were flushed, and her eyes starry, but with dismay and a