Billy shook her head slowly.
“I'm afraid not, Mrs. Hartwell. That isn't the plan, now.”
“Not darken the rooms!” exclaimed Mrs. Hartwell. “Why, it won't—” She stopped suddenly, and fell back in her seat. The look of annoyed disappointment gave way to one of confident relief. “But then, that can be changed,” she finished serenely.
Billy opened her lips, but she shut them without speaking. After a minute she opened them again.
“You might consult—Cyril—about that,” she said in a quiet voice.
“Yes, I will,” nodded Mrs. Hartwell, brightly. She was looking pleased and happy again. “I love weddings. Don't you? You can do so much with them!”
“Can you?” laughed Billy, irrepressibly.
“Yes. Cyril is happy, of course. Still, I can't imagine him in love with any woman.”
“I think Marie can.”
“I suppose so. I don't seem to remember her much; still, I think I saw her once or twice when I was on last June. Music teacher, wasn't she?”