``And, of course, as far as Mary Jane is
concerned, I don't know her any more than you do;
so I couldn't be any help there,'' sighed Aunt
Hannah.

``Not a bit,'' smiled Billy, cheerily. ``Don't
give it another thought, my dear. I sha'n't
have a bit of trouble. All I'll have to do is to
look for a girl alone with a pink. Of course I'll
have mine on, too, and she'll be watching for me.
So just run along and take your nap, dear, and be
all rested and ready to welcome her when she
comes,'' finished Billy, stooping to give the soft,
faintly pink cheek a warm kiss.

``Well, thank you, my dear; perhaps I will,''
sighed Aunt Hannah, drawing the gray shawl
about her as she turned away contentedly.

Mrs. Carleton's tea that afternoon was, for
Billy, not an occasion of unalloyed joy. It was the
first time she had appeared at a gathering of
any size since the announcement of her engagement;
and, as she dolefully told Bertram afterwards,
she had very much the feeling of the picture
hung on the wall.

``And they _did_ put up their lorgnettes and say,
`Is _that_ the one?' '' she declared; ``and I know
some of them finished with `Did you ever?' too,''