William frowned. This time there was more than a touch of hauteur in his voice.
“MISS NEILSON is not one to show vanity anywhere,” he said, with suggestive emphasis on the name.
“Indeed she isn't,” agreed Calderwell, heartily. “She is a fine girl—quite one of the finest I know, in fact.”
There was an uncomfortable silence. Over in the corner Cyril puffed at his cigar with an air almost of boredom. He had not spoken since his first surprised questioning with the others, “Do you know Billy?” William was still frowning. Even Bertram wore a look that was not quite satisfied.
“Miss Neilson has spent two winters in Paris now, you know,” resumed Calderwell, after a moment; “and she is very popular both with the American colony, and with the other students. As for her 'Aunt Hannah'—they all make a pet of her; but that is, perhaps, because Billy herself is so devoted.”
Again William frowned at the familiar “Billy”; but Calderwell talked on unheeding.
“After all, I'm not sure but some of us regard 'Aunt Hannah' with scant favor, occasionally,” he laughed; “something as if she were the dragon that guarded the princess, you know. Miss Billy IS popular with the men, and she has suitors enough to turn any girl's head—but her own.”
“Suitors!” cried William, plainly aghast. “Why, Billy's nothing but a child!”
Calderwell gave an odd smile.
“How long is it since you've seen—Miss Neilson?” he asked.