“FOLLOW them! MISS BILLY!”
“I had to, Pete; don't you see? There was no one else. Mr. Cyril and Uncle William had gone—home, I supposed. I sent back word by the maid to Aunt Hannah that I'd gone ahead; you know the carriage was ordered for eleven; but I'm afraid she won't have sense to tell Aunt Hannah, she looked so dazed and frightened when I told her. But I COULDN'T wait to say more. Well, I hurried out and caught up with Mr. Bertram just as they were crossing Arlington Street to the Garden. I'd heard them say they were going to walk, so I knew I could do it. But, Pete, after I got there, I didn't dare to speak—I didn't DARE to! So I just—followed. They went straight through the Garden and across the Common to Tremont Street, and on and on until they stopped and went down some stairs, all marble and lights and mirrors. 'Twas a restaurant, I think. I saw just where it was, then I flew back here to telephone for Uncle William. I knew HE could do something. But—well, you know the rest. I had to take you. Now come, quick; I'll show you.”
“But, Miss Billy, I can't! You mustn't; it's impossible,” chattered old Pete. “Come, let me take ye home, Miss Billy, do!”
“Home—and leave Mr. Bertram with that Seaver man? No, no!”
“What CAN ye do?”
“Do? I can get him to come home with me, of course.”
The old man made a despairing gesture and looked about him as if for help. He saw then the curious, questioning eyes on all sides; and with a quick change of manner, he touched Miss Billy's arm.
“Yes; we'll go. Come,” he apparently agreed. But once outside on the broad expanse before the Subway entrance he stopped again. “Miss Billy, please come home,” he implored. “Ye don't know—ye can't know what yer a-doin'!”
The girl tossed her head. She was angry now.
“Pete, if you will not go with me I shall go alone. I am not afraid.”