"Good-morning, Billikins! Tell the _khit_ you're ready! I shall be out
in two shakes."

None but she would have dreamed of bestowing so frivolous an appellation
upon the sober Merryon. But from her it came so naturally that Merryon
scarcely noticed it. He had been "Billikins" to her throughout the brief
three months that had elapsed since their marriage. Of course, Mrs.
Paget disapproved, but then Mrs. Paget was Mrs. Paget. She disapproved
of everything young and gay.

Merryon gave the required order, and then sat in stolid patience to
await his wife's coming. She did not keep him long. Very soon she came
lightly out and joined him, an impudent smile on her sallow little face,
dancing merriment in her eyes.

"Oh, poor old Billikins!" she said, commiseratingly. "You were bored
last night, weren't you? I wonder if I could teach you to dance."

"I wonder," said Merryon.

His eyes dwelt upon her in her fresh white muslin. What a child she
looked! Not pretty--no, not pretty; but what a magic smile she had!

She sat down at the table facing him, and leaned her elbows upon it. "I
wonder if I could!" she said again, and then broke into her sudden
laugh.

"What's the joke?" asked Merryon.

"Oh, nothing!" she said, recovering herself. "It suddenly came over me,