“Why, y-yes, Billy, of course, if—if you want it. But what an extraordinary idea, child!”
Billy shook her head. A deeper color came to her cheeks, and a softer glow to her eyes.
“I don't think so, Aunt Hannah. It's only that I'm so happy that some of it has just got to overflow somewhere, and this is going to be the overflow house—a sort of safety valve for me, you see. I'm going to call it the Annex—it will be an annex to our home. And I want to keep it full, always, of people who—who can make the best use of all that extra happiness that I can't possibly use myself,” she finished a little tremulously. “Don't you see?”
“Oh, yes, I see,” replied Aunt Hannah, with a fond shake of the head.
“But, really, listen—it's sensible,” urged Billy. “First, there's Tommy. His mother died last month. He's at a neighbor's now, but they're going to send him to a Home for Crippled Children; and he's grieving his heart out over it. I'm going to bring him here to a real home—the kind that doesn't begin with a capital letter. He adores music, and he's got real talent, I think. Then there's the Greggorys.”
Aunt Hannah looked dubious.
“You can't get the Greggorys to—to use any of that happiness, Billy. They're too proud.”
Billy smiled radiantly.
“I know I can't get them to use it, Aunt Hannah, but I believe I can get them to give it,” she declared triumphantly. “I shall ask Alice Greggory to teach Tommy music, and I shall ask Mrs. Greggory to teach him books; and I shall tell them both that I positively need them to keep you company.”
“Oh, but Billy,” bridled Aunt Hannah, with prompt objection.