"I suppose it's an awful travesty, isn't it, Billy?"
"Not for me," said Billy loyally. "Can't I be in love with a woman at the end of fifty years? I should smile."
"It's great fun," she owned. Then more than half in earnest, "Billy, do you suppose I shall go to hell?"
This morning Electra had found something to puzzle her.
"I've been working on your book a little, grandmother," she began.
"What book? My soul and body!" The old lady saw the cover and laid down her pen. "That's my 'Recollections.' What are you doing with that?"
"They are extremely interesting," said Electra absorbedly. She sat down and laid her notes aside, to run over a doubtful page. "We are going to have an inquiry meeting on it."
"We? Who?"
"The club. Everybody was deeply disappointed because you've refused to say anything; but it occurred to us we might give an afternoon to classifying data in it, naming people you just refer to, you know. I am doing the Brook Farm section."
Madam Fulton sank back in her chair and looked despairingly from the window for Billy Stark.