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But I heard nothing of any engagement." "How about the Henshaws? I should think there might be a chance there for a romance a charming girl, and three unattached men." Calderwell gave a slow shake of the head. "I don't think so. William is let me see nearly forty-five, I guess, by this time; and he isn't a marrying man. He buried his heart with his wife and baby years ago.
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.
"Then you'll leave me a clear field?" bantered the other. "Of course 'Mary Jane," retorted Calderwell, with equal lightness. "Thank you." "Oh, you needn't," laughed Calderwell. "My giving you the right of way doesn't insure you a thoroughfare for yourself there are others, you know. Billy Neilson has had sighing swains about I her, I imagine, since she could walk and talk.
And because she was all this, there was, apparently, no limit to her laughter and sparkling repartee as she talked with Calderwell, her guest the guest who, according to her original plans, was to be shown how happy she and Bertram were, what a good wife she made, and how devoted and satisfied Bertram was in his home.
But about the names the nurses, it seems, have got into the way of calling them 'Dot' and 'Dimple. One has a dimple in his cheek, and the other is a little smaller of the two. Marie is no end distressed, particularly as she finds that she herself calls them that; and she says the idea of boys being 'Dot' and 'Dimple'!" "I should say so," laughed Calderwell.
Billy tried, also, these days, to so conduct herself that not by any chance could Calderwell suspect that sometimes she was jealous of Bertram's art. Not for worlds would she have had Calderwell begin to get the notion into his head that his old-time prophecy concerning Bertram's caring only for the turn of a girl's head or the tilt of her chin to paint, was being fulfilled.
Miss Billy IS popular with the men, and she has suitors enough to turn any girl's head but her own." "Suitors!" cried William, plainly aghast. "Why, Billy's nothing but a child!" Calderwell gave an odd smile. "How long is it since you've seen Miss Neilson?" he asked. "Two years." "And then only for a few minutes just before she sailed," amended Bertram.
At all events, when he spoke some time later, it was of a matter far removed from Miss Billy Neilson, or the way to her heart. Nor was the young lady mentioned between them again that day. Long hours later, just before parting for the night, Arkwright said: "Calderwell, I'm sorry, but I believe, after all, I can't take that trip to the lakes with you. I I'm going home next week." "Home!
"Well, if you aren't the stranger lady," began Calderwell, looking frankly pleased to see her. "We'd thought of advertising in the daily press somewhat after this fashion: 'Lost, strayed, or stolen, one Billy; comrade, good friend, and kind cheerer-up of lonely hearts. Any information thankfully received by her bereft, sorrowing friends."
And now it was too late. Had not even Billy called his attention to the fact of Calderwell's devotion? Besides, had not he himself, at the very first, told Calderwell that he might have a clear field? Fool that he had been to let another thus lightly step in and win from under his very nose what might have been his if he had but known his own mind before it was too late!
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