that would help to keep her from yielding to
that absurd and awful desire to fall on the old
servant's neck and cry.

``Not another syllable!'' she repeated sternly.

``Miss Billy!'' choked Pete again. Then he
turned and fled with anything but his usual
dignity.

Bertram called that evening. When Billy
came to him in the living-room, her slender self
was almost hidden behind the swirls of damask
linen in her arms.

Bertram's eyes grew mutinous.

``Do you expect me to hug all that?'' he demanded.

Billy flashed him a mischievous glance.

``Of course not! You don't _have_ to hug
anything, you know.''

For answer he impetuously swept the offending
linen into the nearest chair and drew the girl
into his arms.

``Oh! And see how you've crushed poor Marie's
table-cloth!'' she cried, with reproachful eyes.