You two bein' married so, now." Pete's eyes were still averted.
Billy gave a low cry.
"You mean--because _I_ came ?" she demanded.
"Why, yes, Miss--no--that is--" Pete stopped with an appealing glance at Bertram.
"Then it was--it _was_--on account of _me_," choked Billy.
Pete looked still more distressed "No, no!" he faltered.

"It was only that he thought you wouldn't want him here now." "Want him here!" ejaculated Bertram.
"Want him here!" echoed Billy, with a sob.
"Pete, where is he ?" As she asked the question she dropped the mirror knobs into her open bag, and reached for her coat and gloves--she had not removed her hat.
Pete gave the address.
"It's just down the street a bit and up the hill," he added excitedly, divining her purpose.

"It's a sort of a boarding-house, I reckon." "A _boarding-house_--for Uncle William!" scorned Billy, her eyes ablaze.
"Come, Bertram, we'll see about that." Bertram reached out a detaining hand.
"But, dearest, you're so tired," he demurred.

"Hadn't we better wait till after dinner, or till to-morrow ?" "After dinner! To-morrow!" Billy's eyes blazed anew.

"Why, Bertram Henshaw, do you think I'd leave that dear man even one minute longer, if I could help it, with a notion in his blessed old head that we didn't _want_ him ?" "But you said a little while ago you had a headache, dear," still objected Bertram.