then, and went down-stairs to her guest. She
smiled brightly, though her face was a little pale.

``I wondered if perhaps you wouldn't like some
music,'' she said pleasantly, going straight to
the piano.

``Indeed I would!'' agreed Mrs. Hartwell.

Billy sat down then and played--played as
Mrs. Hartwell had never heard her play before.

``Why, Billy, you amaze me,'' she cried, when
the pianist stopped and whirled about. ``I had
no idea you could play like that!''

Billy smiled enigmatically. Billy was thinking
that Mrs. Hartwell would, indeed, have been
surprised if she had known that in that playing
were herself, the ride home, the luncheon, Bertram,
and the girl--whom Bertram _did not love only
to paint!_



CHAPTER XIII

CYRIL AND A WEDDING