"They'll be out to the house this evening, of course--all but Uncle William.

He doesn't return until to-morrow." "Oh, doesn't he ?" murmured the lady, reaching for her daughter's hand.
Billy looked down with a smile.
"And this is little Kate, I suppose," she said, "whom I haven't seen for such a long, long time.

Let me see, you are how old now ?" "I'm eight.

I've been eight six weeks." Billy's eyes twinkled.
"And you don't remember me, I suppose." The little girl shook her head.
"No; but I know who you are," she added, with shy eagerness.

"You're going to be my Aunt Billy, and you're going to marry my Uncle William--I mean, my Uncle Bertram." Billy's face changed color.