seemed to me quite real."

"I know about him," corrected the lawyer, smilingly, "though I'll
confess I've rather lost track of him lately. Ned will know. I'll ask
Ned. Now go home, my dear, and dry those pretty eyes of yours. Or,
better still, come home with me to tea. I--I'll telephone up to the
house." And he rose stiffly and went into the inner office.

Some minutes passed before he came back, red of face, and plainly
distressed.

"My dear child, I--I'm sorry, but--but I'll have to take back that
invitation," he blurted out miserably. "My sisters are--are not well
this afternoon. Ann has been having a turn with her heart--you know
Ann's heart is--is bad; and Letty--Letty is always nervous at such
times--very nervous. Er--I'm so sorry! But you'll--excuse it?"

"Indeed I will," smiled Billy, "and thank you just the same; only"--her
eyes twinkled mischievously--"you don't mind if I do say that it IS
lucky that we hadn't gone on planning to have me live with them, Mr.
Harding!"

"Eh? Well--er, I think your plan about the Henshaws is very good,"
he interposed hurriedly. "I'll speak to Ned--I'll speak to Ned," he
finished, as he ceremoniously bowed the girl from the office.

James Harding kept his word, and spoke to his son that night; but there
was little, after all, that Ned could tell him. Yes, he remembered Billy
Henshaw well, but he had not heard of him for years, since Henshaw's
marriage, in fact. He must be forty years old, Ned said; but he was a