Billy was not much used to children, and she found this four-year-old atom of humanity to be a great source of interest and amusement. She even told Mrs. Hartwell at parting that little Kate was almost as nice as Spunk—which remark, oddly enough, did not appear to please Mrs. Hartwell to the extent that Billy thought that it would.
At the Beacon Street house Billy was presented at once to Mrs. Stetson.
“And you are to call me 'Aunt Hannah,' my dear,” said the little woman, graciously, “just as the boys do.”
“Thank you,” dimpled Billy, “and you don't know, Aunt Hannah, how good it seems to me to come into so many relatives, all at once!”
Upon going up-stairs Billy found her room somewhat changed. It was far less warlike, and the case of spiders had been taken away.
“And this will be your stratum, you know,” announced Bertram from the stairway, “yours and Aunt Hannah's. You're to have this whole floor. Will and Cyril are above, and I'm down-stairs.”
“You are? Why, I thought you—were—here.” Billy's face was puzzled.
“Here? Oh, well, I did have—some things here,” he retorted airily; “but I took them all away to-day. You see, my stratum is down-stairs, and it doesn't do to mix the layers. By the way, you haven't been up-stairs yet; have you? Come on, and I'll show you—and you, too, Aunt Hannah.”
Billy clapped her hands; but Aunt Hannah shook her head.
“I'll leave that for younger feet than mine,” she said; adding whimsically: “It's best sometimes that one doesn't try to step too far off one's own level, you know.”