It was that evening that Theodore, freshly arrayed in the glory of blue serge and starched linen, drew Miss Billy into a secluded corner. His neck, even as Mr. Hennesy had predicted, was burned to a deep red, and the blisters on his hands were hardening into calloused spots,—but there was no self pity in his manner as he handed his sister a five dollar gold piece.
"My first week's pay," he announced, proudly: "and thank you very much for the accommodation."
"Oh, I'd rather not take it now, Ted," demurred Miss Billy. "Wait until you've earned more."
"No indeed," said Theodore proudly. "Next week I shall pay father for my shoes, and after that, every cent of my money goes into the bank. Take it now, or never, Miss Billy."
"Well, I'll take it if I must, but I don't want to," grumbled his sister. "Say Ted, Beatrice and I are going over to call on Mr. Schultzsky's niece, Frances Lindsay, this evening. Mother saw her trunk arrive to-day, and thought we ought to. Won't you go with us?"
"No, I thank you," said Theodore. "To tell the truth, I've soured on the society of ladies. But if she's handsome, and wealthy, and under thirty, I may relent and call upon her some other evening."
"For my part, I think the idea of our going over there is ridiculous," scolded Beatrice. "I wouldn't, if mother didn't insist upon it. It's more than likely she can speak only Bohemian, as that other little niece does, and will run and hide upon our arrival."
"Well, we'll go, anyway," said Miss Billy. "Mother is right. The girl will feel very strange and lonely in that old house, and if she can't speak English we can at least shake hands and then sit and smile at her."
They took their way across the street, Beatrice very dainty in her white dress with a rose low in her hair,—Miss Billy in a black dress skirt and white shirt-waist, with a severely masculine collar and tie. The front door stood ajar, and after tapping several times Miss Billy ushered herself in. "It's the only way," she declared, in reply to Beatrice's horrified exclamation. "Mr. Schultzsky can't let us in, that little Bohemian girl won't let us in, and under the circumstances, I suppose the new niece can't make up her mind what to do."
There was the sound of a well-modulated masculine voice reading in Mr. Schultzsky's room. Miss Billy tapped gently, and the door was opened by a young man. In one swift glance she knew he was tall, with dark eyes and a ruddy skin, and wore glasses.