“But you haven't told me yet whether you did wish you'd married Uncle William, or Uncle Cyril,” interposed little Kate, persistently.
“No, no, of course not!” exclaimed Billy, with a vivid blush, casting her eyes about for a door of escape, and rejoicing greatly when she spied Delia with the baby coming toward them. “There, look, my dear, here's your new cousin, little Bertram!” she exclaimed. “Don't you want to see him?”
Little Kate turned dutifully.
“Yes'm, Aunt Billy, but I'd rather see the twins. Mother says they're real pretty and cunning.”
“Er—y-yes, they are,” murmured Billy, on whom the emphasis of the “they're” had not been lost.
Naturally, as may be supposed, therefore, Billy had not forgotten little Kate's opening remarks.
Immediately after Christmas Mr. Hartwell and the boys went back to their Western home, leaving Mrs. Hartwell and her daughter to make a round of visits to friends in the East. For almost a week after Christmas they remained at the Strata; and it was on the last day of their stay that little Kate asked the question that proved so momentous in results.
Billy, almost unconsciously, had avoided tête-á-têtes with her small guest. But to-day they were alone together.
“Aunt Billy,” began the little girl, after a meditative gaze into the other's face, “you are married to Uncle Bertram, aren't you?”
“I certainly am, my dear,” smiled Billy, trying to speak unconcernedly.