Miss Billy

avert the waning of her honeymoon. Assiduously she cultivated the prescribed "indifference," and with at least apparent enthusiasm she sought the much-to-be-de

y without question, she was her old self imp

r went until poor Bertram, at his wit's end, scourged himself with a merciless catechism as to what he had done to vex her. Then, perhaps, just when he had nerved himself almost to the point of asking her what was the trouble, there would come another change, bringing back to him the old Billy, joyous, winsome, and devoted

pected. Billy, so far as she was concerned, was but cultivating a comfort

nto his new work with an enthusiasm born of a glad relief from forced idleness, and a consuming eagerness to prove that even though he had failed the first time, he could paint a portrait of Marguerite Winthrop that would be a credit to himself, a conclusive retort to his c

onth, that Billy was called to the telephone at

changed the pose-neither of us was satisfied, you know-but we haven't quite settled on the new one. Miss Winthrop has tw

lly. Billy's voice was

d Bertram, contentedly. "You see, really, two who

can't," echoe

ood-by till to-nig

he tossed her head. "A new pose, indeed!" she muttered, with some asperity.

Boston to pay a visit to Eliza's mother, and it was soon aft

e subway this morning, and I-well, I remembered what you said about bringing

en now, just the bare mention of anything connected with that awful "test" night was en

'clock then. It's-it's Calderwell, this t

l?" Billy's questio

ct once I wouldn't have brought him home to you. I was too jea

rtr

hievously, and called a gay "

ng up the receiver and backed agai

iage as regularly (and almost as lightly!) as he had torn a monthly leaf from his calendar! Besides, was it not he, too, who had said that Bertram would never l

ee! And forthwith Billy picked up her skirts and tripped up-stairs to select her very prettiest house-gown to do honor to the occasion. Up-stairs, however, one thing and another delayed her, so that it was four o'clock when she turned her attention t

o, as before, Billy answered it. This

t you,

yes, E

Uncle Pete. He's give us a turn tha

u mean he

anted Eliza. "But he ain't hisself yet. He's that white and shaky! Would you-could

s, quickly. "Don't come a minute before he

trembling l

he'd start now. But he can't. He says he'll be all right pretty quick, though. He's had 'em before-these spells-but

ut in Mrs. Be

come alone, and besides, anyhow, I'd have to stay, for mother ain't no more use than a wet dish-rag

l Pete not to worry one bi

e'll be there some time t

Billy turned away w

o faithful he'd come if-" With a little cry Billy stopped short. Then, tremblingly,

staring at nothing. Then she ran to

nnah an

down instanter! Pete is sick over to South Boston, and Eliza is with him;

rse I can-I mean I could-but Rosa isn't her

ht; but Pete and Eliza have spoiled me. They never take da

child, what

e got to think. I

'd come over myself if

I'd l

ly, Billy, this only goes to prove what I've always said, that no

an efficient housekeeper; and Hugh Calderwell won't wait for me to learn. He's coming to-

e," fluttered Aunt Hannah's voice across the w

acked palpitatingly against the wall

ome hotel. But to do this now, the very first time, when it had been her own suggestion that he "bring them home"-no, no, she could not

Cyril to be taken into consideration. How Cyril would gibe at the wife who had to call in all the neighbors just because h

y from the wall and stood erect. Her eyes snapped,

et his dinner for him! Nonsense! She would get it herself. Was not this the time, if ever, to be an oak? A vine, doubtless, would lean and cling and telephone, and wh

ave to cook bread and cake and pies just to get a dinner-meat and potatoes and vegeta

d up-stairs for her ruffled apron and dust-cap-two necess

en of her precious minutes to unearth from its obscure hiding-place the bl

r dinner. As was natural, perhaps, she chos

begin with grapefruit with a cherry in it, like Pete fixes it. Those don't have to be cooked, anyhow. I'll have fish-Bertram loves the fish course. Let me see, halibut, I guess, with egg sauce. I won't have any roast; nothing but the chicken pie. And I'll have squash and onions. I ca

e second, for some unapparent reason, filled her heart with vague misgiving. This feeling, however, Billy resolutely

erience of fires was confined to burning wood in open grates-and wood in open grates had to be poked to make it red and glowing. With confident alacrity now, therefore, Billy c

red to her that her larder was not, after all, an open market, and that one's provisions must be espec

ver get here in time," she sighed regretf

er nose; an uncooked beefsteak, which she appropriated doubtfully; a raw turnip and a head of lettuce, which she hailed with glee; an

table they mad

triumphed, cocking her head happily. "And now for t

dings that she ran across the vegetables and found the word "bee

quire three hours to

led eyes soug

-and it was

she ran her fing

er. Turnips require a long time, but if cut

quarter, inde

anywhere that doesn't

quash-..." mumbled Billy's dry lips. "B

newed haste. If it took new potatoes thirty minutes to cook, how long did it take old ones? In vain she searched for the answer. There were plenty of potatoes. They were mashed, whippe

instructions for boiling turnips, and her face cleared. "If it helps to cut turnips thin, why not potatoes?" she cried. "I can do that, anyhow; and I will," she finished, with a sigh of relief,

nodded Billy to the dish in her

d the stove lid and peered inside. Only a mass of b

on me like this!" upbraided Billy, eyei

ere had been no gas stove. Dong Ling disapproved of "devil stoves" that had "no coalee, no woodee, but burned like hellee." Eliza, however, did appr

and beets into a pail under the table, she was still confronted with the beefsteak, l

ed, bless your hearts! But you-!" Billy scowled at the beefsteak and ran her fing

ll; though it seems it's some sort of a dish to cook you in, here-but I shouldn't know it from a teaspoon, probably, if I should see it. No, sir! It's back to the refrigerator for you, and a nice

umph a can of corn, another of tomatoes, and a glass jar of preserved peaches. In the kitchen a

nap behind the stove. "Tell me I can't get up a dinner! And maybe we'll ha

be sure, and she made a great ado looking up the rule; but a hurried glance at the clock sent