onder how it feels to have a peculiar something in your
face. Bertram, too, says she has it. He's trying to 'catch it,' he says.
I wonder now--if he does catch it, does she lose it?" Flippant as were
the words, the voice that uttered them shook a little.

Aunt Hannah smiled indulgently--Aunt Hannah had heard only the
flippancy, not the shake.

"I don't know, my dear. You might ask him this afternoon."

Billy made a sudden movement. The china egg in her lap rolled to the
floor.

"Oh, but I don't see him this afternoon," she said lightly, as she
stooped to pick up the egg.

"Why, I'm sure he told me--" Aunt Hannah's sentence ended in a
questioning pause.

"Yes, I know," nodded Billy, brightly; "but he's told me something
since. He isn't going. He telephoned me this morning. Miss Winthrop
wanted the sitting changed from to-morrow to this afternoon. He said he
knew I'd understand."

"Why, yes; but--" Aunt Hannah did not finish her sentence. The whir of
an electric bell had sounded through the house. A few moments later Rosa
appeared in the open doorway.

"It,'s Mr. Arkwright, Miss. He said as how he had brought the music,"
she announced.

"Tell him I'll be down at once," directed the mistress of Hillside.

As the maid disappeared, Billy put aside her work and sprang lightly to
her feet.

"Now wasn't that nice of him? We were talking last night about some
duets he had, and he said he'd bring them over. I didn't know he'd come
so soon, though."

Billy had almost reached the bottom of the stairway, when a low,
familiar strain of music drifted out from the living-room. Billy caught
her breath, and held her foot suspended. The next moment the familiar
strain of music had become a lullaby--one of Billy's own--and sung now
by a melting tenor voice that lingered caressingly and understandingly
on every tender cadence.

Motionless and almost breathless, Billy waited until the last
low "lul-la-by" vibrated into silence; then with shining eyes and
outstretched hands she entered the living-room.

"Oh, that was--beautiful," she breathed.

Arkwright was on his feet instantly. His eyes, too, were alight.

"I could not resist singing it just once--here," he said a little
unsteadily, as their hands met.

"But to hear my little song sung like that! I couldn't believe it was
mine," choked Billy, still plainly very much moved. "You sang it as I've
never heard it sung before."

Arkwright shook his head slowly.

"The i