“Well; only what?” demanded Bertram.
Billy blushed the more deeply, but she gave a light laugh.
“Nothing, only something Hugh Calderwell said to me once. You see, Bertram, I don't think Hugh ever thought you would—marry.”
“Oh, didn't he?” bridled Bertram. “Well, that only goes to show how much he knows about it. Er—did you announce it—to him?” Bertram's voice was almost savage now.
Billy smiled.
“No; but I did to his sister, and she'll tell him. Oh, Bertram, such a time as I had over those notes,” went on Billy, with a chuckle. Her eyes were dancing, and she was seeming more like her usual self, Bertram thought. “You see there were such a lot of things I wanted to say, about what a dear you were, and how much I—I liked you, and that you had such lovely eyes, and a nose—”
“Billy!” This time it was Bertram who was sitting erect in pale horror.
Billy threw him a roguish glance.
“Goosey! You are as bad as Aunt Hannah! I said that was what I wanted to say. What I really said was—quite another matter,” she finished with a saucy uptilting of her chin.
Bertram relaxed with a laugh.