CHAPTER III. BILLY AND BERTRAM
Bertram called that evening. Before the open fire in the living-room he found a pensive Billy awaiting him—a Billy who let herself be kissed, it is true, and who even kissed back, shyly, adorably; but a Billy who looked at him with wide, almost frightened eyes.
“Why, darling, what's the matter?” he demanded, his own eyes growing wide and frightened.
“Bertram, it's—done!”
“What's done? What do you mean?”
“Our engagement. It's—announced. I wrote stacks of notes to-day, and even now there are some left for to-morrow. And then there's—the newspapers. Bertram, right away, now, everybody will know it.” Her voice was tragic.
Bertram relaxed visibly. A tender light came to his eyes.
“Well, didn't you expect everybody would know it, my dear?”
“Y-yes; but—”
At her hesitation, the tender light changed to a quick fear.