inquiringly at Rosa, who had appeared at that
moment in the hall doorway.

``It's the telephone, Miss Neilson. Mr.
Bertram Henshaw wants you.''

A few minutes later Aunt Hannah heard Billy
at the piano. For fifteen, twenty, thirty minutes
the brilliant scales and arpeggios rippled through
the rooms and up the stairs to Aunt Hannah, who
knew, by the very sound of them, that some
unusual nervousness was being worked off at the
finger tips that played them. At the end of forty-
five minutes Aunt Hannah went down-stairs.

``Billy, my dear, excuse me, but have you
forgotten what time it is? Weren't you going out
with Bertram?''

Billy stopped playing at once, but she did not
turn her head. Her fingers busied themselves
with some music on the piano.

``We aren't going, Aunt Hannah,'' she said.

``Bertram can't.''

``_Can't!_''

``Well, he didn't want to--so of course I