Miss Billy Married Part 12

"But I'm not objecting," stormed the other half of herself. "I'm _telling_ him to do it. It's only that he's so--so _pleased_ to do it.

He doesn't seem to mind a bit being away from me. He's actually happy!"

"Well, don't you want him to be happy in his work? Fie! For shame! A fine artist's wife you are. It seems Kate was right, then; you _are_ going to spoil his career!"

"Ho!" quoth Billy, and tossed her head. Forthwith she crossed the room to her piano and plumped herself down hard on to the stool. Then, from under her fingers there fell a rollicking melody that seemed to fill the room with little dancing feet. Faster and faster sped Billy's fingers; swifter and swifter twinkled the little dancing feet. Then a door was jerked open, and Bertram's voice called:

"Billy!"

The music stopped instantly. Billy sprang from her seat, her eyes eagerly seeking the direction from which had come the voice.

Perhaps--_perhaps_ Bertram wanted her. Perhaps he was not going to paint any longer that morning, after all. "Billy!" called the voice again.

"Please, do you mind stopping that playing just for a little while? I'm a brute, I know, dear, but my brush _will_ try to keep time with that crazy little tune of yours, and you know my hand is none too steady, anyhow, and when it tries to keep up with that jiggety, jig, jig, jiggety, jig, jig--! _Do_ you mind, darling, just--just sewing, or doing something still for a while?"

All the light fled from Billy's face, but her voice, when she spoke, was the quintessence of cheery indifference.

"Why, no, of course not, dear."

"Thank you. I knew you wouldn't," sighed Bertram. Then the door shut.

For a long minute Billy stood motionless before she glanced at her watch and sped to the telephone.

"Is Miss Greggory there, Rosa?" she called when the operator's ring was answered.

"Mis' Greggory, the lame one?"

"No; _Miss_ Greggory--Miss Alice."

"Oh! Yes'm."

"Then won't you ask her to come to the telephone, please."

There was a moment's wait, during which Billy's small, well-shod foot beat a nervous tattoo on the floor.

"Oh, is that you, Alice?" she called then. "Are you going to be home for an hour or two?"

"Why, y-yes; yes, indeed."

"Then I'm coming over. We'll play duets, sing--anything. I want some music."

"Do! And--Mr. Arkwright is here. He'll help."

"Mr. Arkwright? You say he's there? Then I won't--Yes, I will, too."

Billy spoke with renewed firmness. "I'll be there right away. Good-by."

And she hung up the receiver, and went to tell Pete to order John and Peggy at once.

"I suppose I ought to have left Alice and Mr. Arkwright alone together,"

muttered the young wife feverishly, as she hurriedly prepared for departure. "But I'll make it up to them later. I'm going to give them lots of chances. But to-day--to-day I just had to go--somewhere!"

At the Annex, with Alice Greggory and Arkwright, Billy sang duets and trios, and reveled in a sonorous wilderness of new music to her heart's content. Then, rested, refreshed, and at peace with all the world, she hurried home to dinner and to Bertram.

"There! I feel better," she sighed, as she took off her hat in her own room; "and now I'll go find Bertram. Bless his heart--of course he didn't want me to play when he was so busy!"

Billy went straight to the studio, but Bertram was not there. Neither was he in William's room, nor anywhere in the house. Down-stairs in the dining-room Pete was found looking rather white, leaning back in a chair. He struggled at once to his feet, however, as his mistress entered the room.

Billy hurried forward with a startled exclamation.

"Why, Pete, what is it? Are you sick?" she cried, her glance encompa.s.sing the half-set table.

"No, ma'am; oh, no, ma'am!" The old man stumbled forward and began to arrange the knives and forks. "It's just a pesky pain--beggin' yer pardon--in my side. But I ain't sick. No, Miss--ma'am."

Billy frowned and shook her head. Her eyes were on Pete's palpably trembling hands.

"But, Pete, you are sick," she protested. "Let Eliza do that."

Pete drew himself stiffly erect. The color had begun to come back to his face.

"There hain't no one set this table much but me for more'n fifty years, an' I've got a sort of notion that n.o.body can do it just ter suit me.

Besides, I'm better now. It's gone--that pain."

"But, Pete, what is it? How long have you had it?"

"I hain't had it any time, steady. It's the comin' an' goin' kind. It seems silly ter mind it at all; only, when it does come, it sort o'

takes the backbone right out o' my knees, and they double up so's I have ter set down. There, ye see? I'm pert as a sparrer, now!" And, with stiff celerity, Pete resumed his task.

His mistress still frowned.

"That isn't right, Pete," she demurred, with a slow shake of her head.

"You should see a doctor."

The old man paled a little. He had seen a doctor, and he had not liked what the doctor had told him. In fact, he stubbornly refused to believe what the doctor had said. He straightened himself now a little aggressively.

"Humph! Beggin' yer pardon, Miss--ma'am, but I don't think much o' them doctor chaps."

Billy shook her head again as she smiled and turned away. Then, as if casually, she asked:

"Oh, did Mr. Bertram go out, Pete?"

"Yes, Miss; about five o'clock. He said he'd be back to dinner."

"Oh! All right."

From the hall the telephone jangled sharply.

"I'll go," said Pete's mistress, as she turned and hurried up-stairs.

It was Bertram's voice that answered her opening "Hullo."

"Oh, Billy, is that you, dear? Well, you're just the one I wanted. I wanted to say--that is, I wanted to ask you--" The speaker cleared his throat a little nervously, and began all over again. "The fact is, Billy, I've run across a couple of old cla.s.smates on from New York, and they are very anxious I should stay down to dinner with them. Would you mind--very much if I did?"

A cold hand seemed to clutch Billy's heart. She caught her breath with a little gasp and tried to speak; but she had to try twice before the words came.