I could write to Aunt Hannah and beg a home
with her, you know; eh?''

``Of course! Why don't you--`Mary Jane'?''
laughed Calderwell. ``Billy'd take you all right.
She's had a little Miss Hawthorn, a music teacher,
there for months. She's always doing stunts of
that sort. Belle writes me that she's had a dozen
forlornites there all this last summer, two or three
at a time-tired widows, lonesome old maids,
and crippled kids--just to give them a royal
good time. So you see she'd take you, without a
doubt. Jove! what a pair you'd make: Miss
Billy and Mr. Mary Jane! You'd drive the
suffragettes into conniption fits--just by the sound
of you!''

Arkwright laughed quietly; then he frowned.

``But how about it?'' he asked. ``I thought
she was keeping house with Aunt Hannah. Didn't
she stay at all with the Henshaws?''

``Oh, yes, a few months. I never knew just
why she did leave, but I fancied, from something
Billy herself said once, that she discovered she
was creating rather too much of an upheaval in
the Strata. So she took herself off. She went to
school, and travelled considerably. She was over
here when I met her first. After that she was with