Only one meal did Cyril eat alone after his brothers had gone; then he told Pete that he had decided to take the night boat for New York. There was a little matter that called him there, he said, and he believed the trip by water would be a pleasure, the night was so fine and warm.
In New York Cyril had little trouble in finding Billy, as he knew the steamship she was to take.
“I thought as long as I was in New York to-day I'd just come and say good-by to you and Aunt Hannah,” he informed her, with an evident aim toward making his presence appear to be casual.
“That was good of you!” exclaimed Billy. “And how are Uncle William and Mr. Bertram?”
“Very well, I fancy, though they weren't there when I left,” replied the man.
“Oh!—gone away?”
“Yes. A little matter of business they said; but—well, by Jove!” he broke off, his gaze on a familiar figure hurrying at that moment toward them. “There's William now!”
William, with no eyes but for Billy, came rapidly forward.
“Well, well, Billy! I thought as long as I happened to be in New York to-day I'd just run down to the boat and see you and Aunt Hannah off, and wish—CYRIL! Where did YOU come from?”
Billy laughed.