I didn't sleep, and I've taken cold somewhere," sighed the lady, pulling the top shawl a little higher about her throat.
"Why, you poor dear, what a shame!" "Won't Bertram go ?" asked Aunt Hannah.
Billy shook her head--but she did not meet Aunt Hannah's eyes.
"Oh, no.

I sha'n't even ask him.

He said last night he had a banquet on for to-night--one of his art clubs, I believe." Billy's voice was casualness itself.
"But you'll have the Greggorys--that is, Mrs.Greggory _can_ go, can't she ?" inquired Aunt Hannah.
"Oh, yes; I'm sure she can," nodded Billy.

"You know she went to the operetta, and this is just the same--only bigger." "Yes, yes, I know," murmured Aunt Hannah.
"Dear me! How can she get about so on those two wretched little sticks?
She's a perfect marvel to me." "She is to me, too," sighed Billy, as she hurried from the room.
Billy was, indeed, in a hurry.

To herself she said she wanted to get away--away! And she got away as soon as she could.
She had her plans all made.