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Updated: June 13, 2025
Of course you're going to marry when the time comes!" exclaimed Aunt Hannah. Billy laughed and shook her head vigorously. But even as she opened her lips to reply, Rosa appeared and announced that Mr. Calderwell was waiting down-stairs. Billy was angry then, for after the maid was gone, the merriment in Aunt Hannah's laugh only matched that in Marie's and the intonation was unmistakable.
At times he even fancied that he had overcome it; but always the sight of Calderwell in Billy's little drawing-room or of even the man's card on Billy's silver tray was enough to show him that he had not. There were others, too, who annoyed Bertram not a little, foremost of these being his own brothers. Still he was not really worried about William and Cyril, he told himself.
There was determination, and there was still that curious note of relief in the girl's voice. It was as if, somewhere, a great danger had been avoided. "I have my music. That is enough. I'm not intending to marry." "Oh, but Alice, while I will own up I'm glad it isn't Hugh Calderwell, there is Mr. Arkwright, and I did hope " But Alice shook her head and turned resolutely away.
Remember that. Just suppose you, as Mary Jane, should beg a home in a feminine household say in Miss Billy's, for instance!" "I'd like to," retorted Arkwright, with sudden warmth. Calderwell stared a little. The other laughed shamefacedly. "Oh, it's only that I happen to have a devouring curiosity to meet that special young lady. I could write to Aunt Hannah and beg a home with her, you know; eh?"
"Not in mine, thank you;" he retorted whimsically. "I prefer my spirits of a more sane and cheerful sort." The girl laughed, but almost instantly she fell silent. "I've been wondering," she began musingly, after a time, "why some one of those three men does not marry." "You wouldn't wonder if you knew them better," declared Calderwell. "Now think.
It's it's Calderwell, this time. You remember Calderwell, of course." "Not Hugh Calderwell?" Billy's question was a little faint. "Sure!" Bertram laughed oddly, and lowered his voice. "I suspect once I wouldn't have brought him home to you. I was too jealous. But now well, now maybe I want him to see what he's lost." "Bertram!"
"We haven't really seen much of her since three years ago." "Hm-m; well, you'll see for yourself soon. You know she's coming home next month." Not one of the brothers did know it but not one of them intended that Calderwell should find out that they did not. "Yes, she's coming home," said William, lifting his chin a little. "Oh, yes, next month," added Bertram, nonchalantly.
She was even beginning to think that she would never love any one. There were Calderwell, Cyril, Bertram, to say nothing of sundry others, who had loved her, apparently, but whom she could not love.
William still collects, I suppose," she observed. "Jove! I should say he did! I've forgotten the latest; but he's a fine fellow, too, like Bertram." "And Mr. Cyril?" Calderwell frowned. "That chap's a poser for me, Billy, and no mistake. I can't make him out!" "What's the matter?" "I don't know.
I believe her chief difficulty now is that she has not less than six people whom she wishes to put into the two extra rooms still unoccupied, and she can't make up her mind which to take. Her husband says he expects to hear any day of an Annexette to the Annex." "Humph!" grunted Calderwell, as he turned and began to walk up and down the room. "Bertram is still painting, I suppose." "Oh, yes."
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