too, carried a peculiar something that
the artist's eye was quick to detect, and that the artist's fingers
tingled to put on canvas.

"Jove! Billy," he said low in her ear, as he greeted her, "I wish I had
a brush in my hand this minute. I'd have a 'Face of a Girl' that would
be worth while!"

Billy laughed and dimpled her appreciation; but down in her heart she
was conscious of a vague unrest. Billy wished, sometimes, that she did
not so often seem to Bertram--a picture.

She turned to Cyril with outstretched hand.

"Oh, yes, Marie's coming," she smiled in answer to the quick shifting
of Cyril's eyes to the hall doorway. "And Aunt Hannah, too. They're
up-stairs."

"And Mary Jane?" demanded William, a little anxiously

"Will's getting nervous," volunteered Bertram, airily. "He wants to see
Mary Jane. You see we've told him that we shall expect him to see that
she doesn't bother us four too much, you know. He's expected always to
remove her quietly but effectually, whenever he sees that she is likely
to interrupt a tete-a-tete. Naturally, then, Will wants to see
Mary Jane."

Billy began to laugh hysterically. She dropped into a chair and raised
both her hands, palms outward.

"Don't, don't--please don't!" she choked, "or I shall die. I've had all
I can stand, already."

"All you can stand?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is she so--impossible?" This last was from Bertram, spoken softly, and
with a hurried glance toward the hall.

Billy dropped her hands and lifted her head. By heroic effort she pulled
her face into sobriety--all but her eyes--and announced:

"Mary Jane is--a man."

"Wha-at?"

"A _man!_"

"Billy!"

Three masculine forms sat suddenly erect.

"Yes. Oh, Uncle William, I know now just how you felt--I know, I know,"
gurgled Billy, incoherently. "There he stood with his pink just as I
did--only he had a brown beard, and he didn't have Spunk--and I had to
telephone to prepare folks, just as you did. And the room--the room!
I fixed the room, too," she babbled breathlessly, "only I had curling
tongs and hair pins in it instead of guns and spiders!"

"Child, child! what _are_ you talking about?" William's face was red.

"A _man!_--_Mary Jane!_" Cyril was merely cross.

"Billy, what does this mean?" Bertram had grown a little white.

Billy began to laugh again, yet she was plainly trying to control
herself.

"I'll tell you. I must tell you. Aunt Hannah is keeping him up-stairs
so I can tell