``_Hinder me!_ What are you talking about, Billy?''
Billy drew a quivering sigh.
``Well, to begin with, Kate said--''
``Good heavens! Is Kate in _this_, too?'' Bertram's voice was savage now.
``Well, she wrote a letter.''
``I'll warrant she did! Great Scott, Billy! Don't you know Kate by this time?''
``Y-yes, I said so, too. But, Bertram, what she wrote was true. I found it everywhere, afterwards-- in magazines and papers, and even in
Marie.''
``Humph! Well, dearie, I don't know yet what you found, but I do know you wouldn't have found it at all if it hadn't been for Kate--and I wish I had her here this minute!''
Billy giggled hysterically.
``I don't--not _right_ here,'' she cooed, nestling comfortably against her lover's arm. ``But you see, dear, she never _has_ approved of the marriage.''
``Well, who's doing the marrying--she, or I?'' ``That's what I said, too--only in another way,'' sighed Billy. ``But she called us flyaway flutterbudgets, and she said I'd ruin your career, if I did marry you.''
``Well, I can tell you right now, Billy, you will ruin it if you don't!'' declared Bertram. ``That's what ailed me all the time I was painting that miserable portrait. I was so worried--for fear I'd lose you.''
``Lose me! Why, Bertram Henshaw, what do you mean?''
A shamed red crept to the man's forehead.
``Well, I suppose I might as well own up now as any time. I was scared blue, Billy, with jealousy of--Arkwright.''
Billy laughed gayly--but she shifted her position and did not meet her lover's eyes.
``Arkwright? Nonsense!'' she cried. ``Why, he's going to marry Alice Greggory. I know he is! I can see it as plain as day in her letters. He's there a lot.''
``And you never did think for a minute, Billy, that you cared for him?'' Bertram's gaze searched Billy's face a little fearfully. He had not been slow to mark that swift lowering of her eyelids. But Billy looked him now straight in the face-- it was a level, frank gaze of absolute truth.
``Never, dear,'' she said firmly. (Billy was so glad Bertram had turned the question on _her_ love instead of Arkwright's!) ``There has never really been any one but you.''
``Thank God for that,'' breathed Bertram, as he drew the bright head nearer and held it close.
After a minute Billy stirred and sighed happily.
``Aren't lovers the beat'em for imagining things?'' she murmured.
``They certainly are.''
``You see--I wasn't in love with Mr. Arkwright.''
``I see--I hope.''
`` And--and you didn't care _specially_ for--for Miss Winthrop?''
``Eh? Well, no!'' exploded Bertram. ``Do you mean to say you really--''
Billy put a soft finger on his lips.
``Er--`people who live in _glass houses_,' you know,'' she reminded him, with roguish eyes.
Bertram kissed the finger and subsided.
``Humph!'' he commented.
There was a long silence; then, a little breathlessly, Billy asked:
``And you don't--after all, love me--just to paint?''
``Well, what is that? Is that Kate, too?'' demanded Bertram, grimly.
Billy laughed.
``No--oh, she said it, all right, but, you see, _everybody_ said that to me, Bertram; and that's what made me so--so worried sometimes when you talked about the tilt of my chin, and all that.''
``Well, by Jove!'' breathed Bertram.
There was another silence. Then, suddenly, Bertram stirred.
``Billy, I'm going to marry you to-morrow,'' he announced decisively.
Billy lifted her head and sat back in palpitating dismay.
``Bertram! What an absurd idea!''
``Well, I am. I don't _know_ as I can trust you out of my sight till _then!_ You'll read something, or hear something, or get a letter from Kate after breakfast to-morrow morning, that will set you `saving me' again; and I don't want to be saved --that way. I'm going to marry you to-morrow. I'll get--'' He stopped short, with a sudden frown. ``Confound that law! I forgot. Great Scott, Billy, I'll have to trust you five days, after all! There's a new law about the license. We've _got_ to wait five days--and maybe more, counting in the notice, and all.''
Billy laughed softly.
``Five days, indeed, sir! I wonder if you think I can get ready to be married in five days.''
``Don't want you to get ready,'' retorted Bertram, promptly. ``I saw Marie get ready, and I had all I wanted of it. If you really must have all those miles of tablecloths and napkins and doilies and lace rufflings we'll do it afterwards,--not before.''
``But--''
``Besides, I _need_ you to take care of me,'' cut in Bertram, craftily.
``Bertram, do you--really?''
The tender glow on Billy's face told its own story, and Bertram's eager eyes were not slow to read it.
``Sweetheart, see here, dear,'' he cried softly, tightening his good left arm. And forthwith he began to tell her how much he did, indeed, need her.
``Billy, my dear!'' It was Aunt Hannah's plaintive voice at the doorway, a little later. ``We must go home; and William is here, too, and wants to see you.''
Billy rose at once as Aunt Hannah entered the room.
``Yes, Aunt Hannah, I'll come; besides--'' she glanced at Bertram mischievously--'' I shall need all the time I've got to prepare for--my wedding.'',
``Your wedding! You mean it'll be before-- October?'' Aunt Hannah glanced from one to the other uncertainly. Something in their smiling faces sent a quick suspicion to her eyes.
``Yes,'' nodded Billy, demurely. ``It's next Tuesday, you see.''
``Next Tuesday! But that's only a week away,'' gasped Aunt Hannah.
``Yes, a week.''
``But, child, your trousseau--the wedding-- the--the--a week!'' Aunt Hannah could not articulate further.
``Yes, I know; that is a good while,'' cut in Bertram, airily. ``We wanted it to-morrow, but we had to wait, on account of the new license law. Otherwise it wouldn't have been so long, and--''
But Aunt Hannah was gone. With a low- breathed ``Long! Oh, my grief and conscience-- _William!_'' she had fled through the hall door.
``Well, it _is_ long,'' maintained Bertram, with tender eyes, as he reached out his hand to say good-night.