Her cheeks burned with shame then. But
almost at once she smiled.

``Now wasn't that just like Billy?'' she was
saying to herself, with a tender glow in her eyes.


It was early in December that Pete came one
day with a package for Marie from Cyril. Marie
was not at home, and Billy herself went downstairs
to take the package from the old man's
hands.

``Mr. Cyril said to give it to Miss Hawthorn,''
stammered the old servant, his face lighting up
as Billy entered the room; ``but I'm sure he
wouldn't mind _your_ taking it.''

``I'm afraid I'll have to take it, Pete, unless
you want to carry it back with you,'' she smiled.
``I'll see that Miss Hawthorn has it the very first
moment she comes in.''

``Thank you, Miss. It does my old eyes good
to see your bright face.'' He hesitated, then
turned slowly. ``Good day, Miss Billy.''

Billy laid the package on the table. Her eyes
were thoughtful as she looked after the old man,