Mrs. Hartwell watched William very closely after that. She saw his eyes follow Billy fondly, yet anxiously. She saw his open joy at being with her, and at any little attention, word, or look that the girl gave him. She remembered, too, something that Bertram had said about William's grief because Billy would not live at the Strata. She thought she saw something else, also: that Billy was fond of William, but that William did not know it; hence his frequent troubled scrutiny of her face. Why these two should play at cross purposes Sister Kate could not understand. She smiled, however, confidently: they should not play at cross purposes much longer, she declared.
On Sunday afternoon Kate asked her eldest brother to take her driving.
“Not a motor car; I want a horse—that will let me talk,” she said.
“Certainly,” agreed William, with a smile; but Bertram, who chanced to hear her, put in the sly comment: “As if ANY horse could prevent—that!”
On the drive Kate began to talk at once, but she did not plunge into the subject nearest her heart until she had adroitly led William into a glowing enumeration of Billy's many charming characteristics; then she said:
“William, why don't you take Billy home with you?”
William stirred uneasily as he always did when anything annoyed him.
“My dear Kate, there is nothing I should like better to do,” he replied.
“Then why don't you do it?”
“I—hope to, sometime.”