Phyllis

Ah! Love was never without The pang, the agony, the doubt. —BYRON.
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Billy, Billy! I call, eagerly, and at the top of my healthy lungs; but there is no reply. Where can that boy be?
Billy, Billy! I shout again, more lustily this time, and with my neck craned half-way down the kitchen-stair-case, but with a like result. There is a sudden movement on the upper landing, and Dora, appearing above, waves her hand frantically towards me to insure attention, while she murmurs, Hush! Hush! with hurried emphasis. I look up, and see she is robed in her best French muslin, the faint blue and white of which contrasts so favorably with her delicate skin.
Hush! There is some one in the drawing-room, says my lovely sister, with the slightest possible show of irritation.
Who? I ask, in my loudest whisper, feeling somewhat interested. Not—not Mr. Carrington—surely?
'Yes,' returns Dora, under her breath; and really, Phyllis, I wish you would not give yourself the habit of—-
What? Already! I interrupt, with a gasp of surprise. Well, certainly he has lost no time. Now, Dora, mind you make a conquest of him, whatever you do, as, being our landlord, he may prove formidable.
Dora blushes—it is a common trick of hers, and she does it very successfully—nods, smiles and goes on to victory. The drawing-room door opens and shuts; I can hear a subdued murmur of voices; some one laughs. It is a man's laugh, and I feel the growth of curiosity strong within my breast. Oh, for some congenial soul to share my thoughts! Where on earth is Billy?
I am about to prosecute my search for him in person, when he suddenly appears, coming towards me from a totally unexpected direction.
What's up? he asks, in his usual neat style.
Oh, Billy, he is here—Mr. Carrington I mean, I exclaim, eagerly. Dora and mamma are with him. I wonder will they ask him about the wood?