"You say it cost a hundred dollars?" he queried, breaking a silence
during which Billie had felt like a criminal awaiting sentence. Now she
nodded unhappily.

"A hundred dollars," her father repeated. "Well, that's a lot to pay,
Beatrice, for just a few minutes' reckless fun. Of course I can pay it,
but that will mean putting off some affairs of more pressing
importance--"

But Billie could stand it no longer, and with a little cry she flew to
him and pressed her soft cheek against his.

"Daddy, I'm a brute to worry you like this!" she cried, penitently.
"Please don't worry any more, dear. I'll find some way to replace the old
thing myself."

Her father patted her cheek, but the worried frown still remained on
his face. Billie started to leave the room but turned before she had
reached the door.

"Dad," she said hesitatingly, and he turned to her with a smile. "About
Uncle Bill," she said. "He has always given me anything I wanted. Do you
suppose he would help?"

"He is out of the country--gone on a business trip that has taken him on
an ocean voyage," said her father. "He will be gone for an indefinite
period. I thought you knew, Billie. Though, as he just left, I suppose it
is not strange you had not heard us speak of it." And with that Mr.
Bradley relapsed immediately into his brown study.