"Have you any dress-clothes?" I ask, presently, some-what nervously.
"No; I never had any dress-clothes in my life; where would I get them?—but I have black breeches and a black jacket (like a shell-jacket, you know), and a white shirt and a black tie. That will do, won't it? Langley says I look uncommon well in them; and you'll see when I'm dressed up and that, I'll be as fit as the best of 'em."
It is evident Billy's good opinion of himself has not been lowered since we parted. He holds a generous belief in his own personal attractions; so does Langley, whoever he may be.
"Far nicer than any of them," I respond, with enthusiasm; and he does not contradict me.
When the garments just described have been laid upon the bed, Billy discloses symptoms of a desire to get into them, I turn to leave the room. But on the threshold I be-think me of another important question, and pause to ask it in a tone not altogether free from trepidation; for Billy, at times, is a person difficult to deal with.
"Have you a clean white cambric handkerchief?" I ask, slowly.
"Well, no, I have not," confesses my brother, amicably. "You see, all the white ones mother gave me when leaving, I exchanged with another fellow for some of his. And grand handkerchiefs they are—really handsome ones, you know, Phyllis; but they have all got flags, or sailors, or fat Shahs painted in the corners and in the middle, which makes them look just a leetle conspicuous.' But it won't matter a bit," says Billy, cheerfully, "as I seldom blow my nose (indeed, never, unless I have a cold in my head); and if I don't exhibit the Shahs, they will never find me out."
"Oh, indeed that would not do," I exclaim, earnestly. "You must let me get you one of Marmaduke's, and then you will feel more easy in your mind. Just suppose you were to sneeze! I often do it, even without having a cold."
"All right; you can bring it," says Billy, and I withdraw.
When, half an hour later, the drawing-room door opens to admit him, and looking up I see my brother's well-shaped head and slight boyish figure, a strange pang of delight and admiration touches my heart.