第42章

"See here, Billy, you can't bluff worth a cent," he declared. "You are much too refreshingly frank for that. Something was the trouble. Now what was it? Won't you tell me, please?"Billy pouted. She hesitated and gazed anywhere but into the challenging eyes before her. Then very suddenly she looked straight into them.

"Very well, there WAS a reason for my leaving," she confessed a little breathlessly. "I--didn't want to--bother you any more--all of you.""Bother us!"

"No. I found out. You couldn't paint; Mr. Cyril couldn't play or write; and--and everything was different because I was there. But I didn't blame you--no, no!" she assured him hastily. "It was only that I--found out.""And may I ask HOW you obtained this most extraordinary information?"demanded Bertram, savagely.

Billy shook her head. Her round little chin looked suddenly square and determined.

"You may ask, but I shall not tell," she declared firmly.

If Bertram had known Billy just a little better he would have let the matter drop there; but he did not know Billy, so he asked:

"Was it anything I did--or said?"

The girl did not answer.

"Billy, was it?" Bertram's voice showed terror now.

Billy laughed unexpectedly.

"Do you think I'm going to say 'no' to a series of questions, and then give the whole thing away by my silence when you come to the right one?" she demanded merrily. "No, sir!""Well, anyhow, it wasn't I, then," sighed the man in relief; "for you just observed that you were not going to say 'no to a series of questions'--and that was the first one. So I've found out that much, anyhow," he concluded triumphantly.

The girl eyed him for a moment in silence; then she shook her head.

"I'm not going to be caught that way, either," she smiled. "You know--just what you did in the first place about it: nothing."The man stirred restlessly and pondered. After a long pause he adopted new tactics. With a searching study of her face to note the slightest change, he enumerated:

"Was it Cyril, then? Will? Aunt Hannah? Kate? It couldn't have been Pete, or Dong Ling!"Billy still smiled inscrutably. At no name had Bertram detected so much as the flicker of an eyelid; and with a glance half-admiring, half-chagrined, he fell back into his chair.

"I'll give it up. You've won," he acknowledged. "But, Billy,"--his manner changed suddenly--"I wonder if you know just what a hole you left in the Strata when you went away.""But I couldn't have--in the whole Strata," objected Billy. "Ioccupied only one stratum, and a stratum doesn't go up and down, you know, only across; and mine was the second floor."Bertram gave a slow shake of his head.

"I know; but yours was a freak formation," he maintained gravely.

"It DID go up and down. Honestly, Billy, we did care--lots. Will and I were inconsolable, and even Cyril played dirges for a week.""Did he?" gurgled Billy, with sudden joyousness. "I'm so glad!""Thank you," murmured Bertram, disapprovingly. "We hadn't considered it a subject for exultation.""What? Oh, I didn't mean that! That is--" she stopped helplessly.

"Oh, never mind about trying to explain," interposed Bertram. "Ifancy the remedy would be worse than the disease, in this case.""Nonsense! I only meant that I like to be missed--sometimes,"retorted Billy, a little nettled.

"And you rejoice then to have me mope, Cyril play dirges, and Will wander mournfully about the house with Spunkie in his arms! You should have seen William. If his forlornness did not bring tears to your eyes, the grace of the pink bow that lopped behind Spunkie's left ear would surely have brought a copious flow."Billy laughed, but her eyes grew tender.

"Did Uncle William do--that?" she asked.

"He did--and he did more. Pete told me after a time that you had not left one thing in the house, anywhere; but one day, over behind William's most treasured Lowestoft, I found a small shell hairpin, and a flat brown silk button that I recognized as coming from one of your dresses.""Oh!" said Billy, softly. "Dear Uncle William--and how good he was to me!"