ckname."
(Arkwright was speaking a little slowly now, as if weighing his words.)
"But when she answered, I saw that she did not; for, from something she
said, I realized that she thought I was a real Mary Jane. For the joke
of the thing I let it pass. But--if she noticed my letter carefully, she
saw that I did not accept your kind invitation to give 'Mary Jane' a
home."

"Yes, we noticed that," nodded Billy, merrily. "But we didn't think you
meant it. You see we pictured you as a shy young thing. But, really,"
she went on with a low laugh, "you see your coming as a masculine 'Mary
Jane' was particularly funny--for me; for, though perhaps you didn't
know it, I came once to this very same city, wearing a pink, and was
expected to be Billy, a boy. And only to-day a lady warned me that
your coming might even things up. But I didn't believe it would--a Mary
Jane!"

Arkwright laughed. Again he hesitated, and seemed to be weighing his
words.

"Yes, I heard about that coming of yours. I might almost say--that's why
I--let the mistake pass in Aunt Hannah's letter," he said.

Billy turned with reproachful eyes.

"Oh, how could--you? But then--it was a temptation!" She laughed
suddenly. "What sinful joy you must have had watching me hunt for 'Mary
Jane.'"

"I didn't," acknowledged the other, with unexpected candor. "I
felt--ashamed. And when I saw you were there alone without Aunt Hannah,
I came very near not speaking at all--until I realized that that would
be even worse, under the circumstances."

"Of course it would," smiled Billy, brightly; "so I don't see but I
shall have to forgive you, after all. And here we are at home, Mr. Mary
Jane. By the way, what did you say that 'M. J.' did stand for?" she
asked, as the car came to a stop.

The man did not seem to hear; at least he did not answer. He was
helping his hostess to alight. A moment later a plainly agitated Aunt
Hannah--her gray shawl topped with a huge black one--opened the door of
the house.

CHAPTER VII. OLD FRIENDS AND NEW

At ten minutes before six on the afternoon of Arkwright's arrival, Billy
came into the living-room to welcome the three Henshaw brothers, who, as
was frequently the case, were dining at Hillside.

Bertram thought Billy had never looked prettier than she did this
afternoon with the bronze sheen of her pretty house gown bringing
out the bronze lights in her dark eyes and in the soft waves of her
beautiful hair. Her countenance,