"I wouldn't be a sister to father for anything," protested Billy. "He must be fifty, at least."
Bartlett flushed angrily. He dared not glance at Henrietta. "I am forty-five," said he coldly, which was at least two years and a half as near the truth as Billy's rash statement.
"Yes," sneered Billy. "And I'm only eighteen."
Henrietta changed the subject. When one is eighteen one can announce the fact loudly and cheerfully. When one is thirty-five, one prefers to talk of other things.
"Why not all go for the horse? The car will be all right, father; and I am so hungry," she added pathetically.
CHAPTER XIX
A BROKER PRINCE
"I am going," said Billy with determination.
"We can't leave the general alone," objected Bartlett.
"I don't see how I would be able to help the general any," returned Billy in injured accents.