Miss Billie's Decision [10]
time did you say it was, Thursday?''
``Half past four, South Station.''
``Thursday, at half past four. Let me see-- that's the day of the Carletons' `At Home,' isn't it?''
``Oh, my grief and conscience, yes! But I had forgotten it. What shall we do?''
``Oh, that will be easy. We'll just go to the Carletons' early and have John wait, then take us from there to the South Station. Meanwhile we'll make sure that the little blue room is all ready for her. I put in my white enamel work-basket yesterday, and that pretty little blue case for hairpins and curling tongs that I bought at the fair. I want the room to look homey to her, you know.''
``As if it could look any other way, if _you_ had anything to do with it,'' sighed Aunt Hannah, admiringly.
Billy laughed.
``If we get stranded we might ask the Henshaw boys to help us out, Aunt Hannah. They'd probably suggest guns and swords. That's the way they fixed up _my_ room.''
Aunt Hannah raised shocked hands of protest.
``As if we would! Mercy, what a time that was!''
Billy laughed again.
``I never shall forget, _never_, my first glimpse of that room when Mrs. Hartwell switched on the lights. Oh, Aunt Hannah, I wish you could have seen it before they took out those guns and spiders!''
``As if I didn't see quite enough when I saw William's face that morning he came for me!'' retorted Aunt Hannah, spiritedly.
``Dear Uncle William! What an old saint he has been all the way through,'' mused Billy aloud. ``And Cyril--who would ever have believed that the day would come when Cyril would say to me, as he did last night, that he felt as if Marie had been gone a month. It's been just seven days, you know.''
``I know. She comes to-morrow, doesn't she?''
``Yes, and I'm glad. I shall tell Marie she needn't leave Cyril on _my_ hands again. Bertram says that at home Cyril hasn't played a dirge since his engagement; but I notice that up here --where Marie might be, but isn't--his tunes would never be mistaken for ragtime. By the way,'' she added, as she rose from the table, ``that's another surprise in store for Hugh Calderwell. He always declared that Cyril wasn't a marrying man, either, any more than Bertram. You know he said Bertram only cared for girls to paint; but--'' She stopped and looked 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 said not to. He's been painting this morning on a new portrait, and she said he might stay to luncheon and keep right on for a while this afternoon, if he liked. And--he did like, so he stayed.''
``Why, how--how--'' Aunt Hannah stopped helplessly.
``Oh, no, not at all,'' interposed Billy, lightly. ``He told me all about it the other night. It's going to be a very wonderful portrait; and, of course, I wouldn't want to interfere with--his work!'' And again a brilliant scale rippled from Billy's fingers after a crashing chord in the bass.
Slowly Aunt Hannah turned and went up-stairs. Her eyes were troubled. Not since Billy's engagement had she heard Billy play like that.
Bertram did not find a pensive Billy awaiting him that evening. He found a bright-eyed, flushed-cheeked Billy, who let herself be kissed --once--but who did not kiss back; a
``Half past four, South Station.''
``Thursday, at half past four. Let me see-- that's the day of the Carletons' `At Home,' isn't it?''
``Oh, my grief and conscience, yes! But I had forgotten it. What shall we do?''
``Oh, that will be easy. We'll just go to the Carletons' early and have John wait, then take us from there to the South Station. Meanwhile we'll make sure that the little blue room is all ready for her. I put in my white enamel work-basket yesterday, and that pretty little blue case for hairpins and curling tongs that I bought at the fair. I want the room to look homey to her, you know.''
``As if it could look any other way, if _you_ had anything to do with it,'' sighed Aunt Hannah, admiringly.
Billy laughed.
``If we get stranded we might ask the Henshaw boys to help us out, Aunt Hannah. They'd probably suggest guns and swords. That's the way they fixed up _my_ room.''
Aunt Hannah raised shocked hands of protest.
``As if we would! Mercy, what a time that was!''
Billy laughed again.
``I never shall forget, _never_, my first glimpse of that room when Mrs. Hartwell switched on the lights. Oh, Aunt Hannah, I wish you could have seen it before they took out those guns and spiders!''
``As if I didn't see quite enough when I saw William's face that morning he came for me!'' retorted Aunt Hannah, spiritedly.
``Dear Uncle William! What an old saint he has been all the way through,'' mused Billy aloud. ``And Cyril--who would ever have believed that the day would come when Cyril would say to me, as he did last night, that he felt as if Marie had been gone a month. It's been just seven days, you know.''
``I know. She comes to-morrow, doesn't she?''
``Yes, and I'm glad. I shall tell Marie she needn't leave Cyril on _my_ hands again. Bertram says that at home Cyril hasn't played a dirge since his engagement; but I notice that up here --where Marie might be, but isn't--his tunes would never be mistaken for ragtime. By the way,'' she added, as she rose from the table, ``that's another surprise in store for Hugh Calderwell. He always declared that Cyril wasn't a marrying man, either, any more than Bertram. You know he said Bertram only cared for girls to paint; but--'' She stopped and looked 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 said not to. He's been painting this morning on a new portrait, and she said he might stay to luncheon and keep right on for a while this afternoon, if he liked. And--he did like, so he stayed.''
``Why, how--how--'' Aunt Hannah stopped helplessly.
``Oh, no, not at all,'' interposed Billy, lightly. ``He told me all about it the other night. It's going to be a very wonderful portrait; and, of course, I wouldn't want to interfere with--his work!'' And again a brilliant scale rippled from Billy's fingers after a crashing chord in the bass.
Slowly Aunt Hannah turned and went up-stairs. Her eyes were troubled. Not since Billy's engagement had she heard Billy play like that.
Bertram did not find a pensive Billy awaiting him that evening. He found a bright-eyed, flushed-cheeked Billy, who let herself be kissed --once--but who did not kiss back; a