miss billie married-第14部分

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ring；　and　hang　upon　his　every　movement。　　Then；

for　the　next　three；　she　would　be　a　veritable　will…o'…

the…wisp　for　elusiveness；　caring；　apparently；　not

one　whit　whether　her　husband　came　or　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；　plainly

caring　nothing　for　anybody　or　anything　but

himself。　　Scarcely；　however；　would　he　become　sure

that　it　was　his　Billy　back　again　before　she　was　off

once　more；　quite　beyond　his　reach；　singing　with

Arkwright　and　Alice　Greggory；　playing　with

Tommy　Dunn；　plunging　into　some　club　or　church

workanything　but　being　with　him。



That　all　this　was　puzzling　and　disquieting　to

Bertram；　Billy　not　once　suspected。　　Billy；　so　far

as　she　was　concerned；　was　but　cultivating　a

comfortable　indifference；　brushing　up　against　outside

interests；　and　being　an　oak。



December　passed；　and　January　came；　bringing

Miss　Marguerite　Winthrop　to　her　Boston　home。　

Bertram's　arm　was　‘‘as　good　as　ever''　now；

according　to　its　owner；　and　the　sittings　for　the　new

portrait　began　at　once。　　This　left　Billy　even　more

to　her　own　devices；　for　Bertram　entered　into　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　critics；　and　a　source　of

pride　to　his　once　mortified　friends。　　With　his

whole　heart；　therefore；　he　threw　himself　into　the

work　before　him；　staying　sometimes　well　into　the

afternoon　on　the　days　Miss　Winthrop　could　find

time　between　her　social　engagements　to　give　him

a　sitting。



It　was　on　such　a　day；　toward　the　middle　of　the

month；　that　Billy　was　called　to　the　telephone　at

half…past　twelve　o'clock　to　speak　to　her　husband。



‘‘Billy；　dear；''　began　Bertram　at　once；　‘‘if　you

don't　mind　I'm　staying　to　luncheon　at　Miss　Winthrop's

kind　request。　　We've　changed　the　pose

neither　of　us　was　satisfied；　you　knowbut　we

haven't　quite　settled　on　the　new　one。　　Miss

Winthrop　has　two　whole　hours　this　afternoon　that

she　can　give　me　if　I'll　stay；　and；　of　course；　under

the　circumstances；　I　want　to　do　it。''



‘‘Of　course；''　echoed　Billy。　　Billy's　voice　was

indomitably　cheerful。



‘‘Thank　you；　dear。　　I　knew　you'd　understand；''

sighed　Bertram；　contentedly。　　‘‘You　see；　really；

two　whole　hours；　soit's　a　chance　I　can't　afford

to　lose。''



‘‘Of　course　you　can't；''　echoed　Billy；　again。



‘‘All　right　then。　　Good…by　till　to…night；''　called

the　man。



‘‘Good…by；''　answered　Billy；　still　cheerfully。　

As　she　turned　away；　however；　she　tossed　her　head。　

‘‘A　new　pose；　indeed！''　she　muttered；　with　some

asperity。　　‘‘Just　as　if　there　could　be　a　_new_　pose

after　all　those　she　tried　last　year！''



Immediately　after　luncheon　Pete　and　Eliza

started　for　South　Boston　to　pay　a　visit　to　Eliza's

mother；　and　it　was　soon　after　they　left　the　house

that　Bertram　called　his　wife　up　again。



‘‘Say；　dearie；　I　forgot　to　tell　you；''　he　began；

‘‘but　I　met　an　old　friend　in　the　subway　this

morning；　and　Iwell；　I　remembered　what　you

said　about　bringing　'em　home　to　dinner　next

time；　so　I　asked　him　for　to…night。　　Do　you　mind？　

It's''



‘‘Mind？　　Of　course　not！　　I'm　glad　you　did；''

plunged　in　Billy；　with　feverish　eagerness。　　（Even

now；　just　the　bare　mention　of　anything　connected

with　that　awful　‘‘test''　night　was　enough　to　set

Billy's　nerves　to　tingling。）　　‘‘I　want　you　to　always

bring　them　home；　Bertram。''



‘‘All　right；　dear。　　We'll　be　there　at　six　o'clock

then。　　It'sit'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　nowwell；　now　maybe　I　want　him　to　see

what　he's　lost。''



‘‘_Bertram！_''



But　Bertram　only　laughed　mischievously；　and

called　a　gay　‘‘Good…by　till　to…night；　then！''



Billy；　at　her　end　of　the　wires；　hung　up　the

receiver　and　backed　against　the　wall　a　little

palpitatingly。



Calderwell！　　To　dinnerCalderwell！　　Did

she　remember　Calderwell？　　Did　she；　indeed！　　As

if　one　could　easily　forget　the　man　that；　for　a　year

or　two；　had　proposed　marriage　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　love　any

girl；　_really_；　that　it　would　be　only　the　tilt　of　her

chin　or　the　turn　of　her　head　that　he　lovedto

paint？　　And　now　he　was　coming　to　dinnerand

with　Bertram。



Very　well；　he　should　see！　　He　should　see　that

Bertram　_did_　love　her；　_her_not　the　tilt　of　her

chin　nor　the　turn　of　her　head。　　He　should　see　how

happy　they　were；　what　a　good　wife　she　made；　and

how　devoted　and　_satisfied_　Bertram　was　in　his

home。　　He　should　see！　　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　to　her　toilet；　and　it　was

while　she　was　hesitating　whether　to　be　stately

and　impressive　in　royally　sumptuous　blue　velvet

and　ermine；　or　cozy　and　tantalizingly　homy｛sic｝　in

bronze…gold　crpe　de　Chine　and　swan's…down；

that　the　telephone　bell　rang　again。



Eliza　and　Pete　had　not　yet　returned；　so；　as

before；　Billy　answered　it。　　This　time　Eliza's

shaking　voice　came　to　her。



‘‘Is　that　you；　ma'am？''



‘‘Why；　yes；　Eliza？''



‘‘Yes'm；　it's　me；　ma'am。　　It's　about　Uncle

Pete。　　He's　give　us　a　turn　that's　'most　scared　us

out　of　our　wits。''



‘‘Pete！　　You　mean　he's　sick？''



‘‘Yes；　ma'am；　he　was。　　That　is；　he　is；　too

only　he's　better；　now；　thank　goodness；''　panted

Eliza。　　‘‘But　he　ain't　hisself　yet。　　He's　that　white

and　shaky！　　Would　youcould　youthat　is；

would　you　mind　if　we　didn't　come　back　till　into

the　evenin'；　maybe？''



‘‘Why；　of　course　not；''　cried　Pete's　mistress；

quickly。　　‘‘Don't　come　a　minute　before　he's　able；

Eliza。　　Don't　come　until　to…morrow。''



Eliza　gave　a　trembling　little　laugh。



‘‘Thank　you；　ma'am；　but　there　wouldn't　be

no　keepin'　of　Uncle　Pete　here　till　then。　　If　he

could　take　five　steps　alone　he'd　start　now。　　But

he　can't。　　He　says　he'll　be　all　right　pretty　quick；

though。　　He's　had　'em　beforethese　spells

but　never　quite　so　bad　as　this；　I　guess；　an'　he's

worryin'　somethin'　turrible　'cause　he　can't　start

for　home　right　away。''



‘‘Nonsense！''　cut　in　Mrs。　Bertram　Henshaw。



‘‘Yes'm。　　I　knew　you'd　feel　that　way；''

stammered　Eliza；　gratefully。　　‘‘You　see；　I　couldn't

leave　him　to　come　alone；　and　besides；　anyhow；

I'd　have　to　stay；　for　mother　ain't　no　more　use

than　a　wet　dish…rag　at　such　times；　she's　that

scared　herself。　　And　she　ain't　very　well；　too。　　So

ifif　you　_could_　get　along''



‘‘Of　course　we　can！　　And　tell　Pete　not　to

worry　one　bit。　　I'm　so　sorry　he's　sick！''



‘‘Thank　you；　ma'am。　　Then　we'll　be　there

some　time　this　evenin'；''　sighed　Eliza。



From　the　telephone　Billy　turned　away　with　a

troubled　face。



‘‘Pete　_is_　ill；''　she　was　saying　to　herself。　　‘‘I

don't　like　the　looks　of　it；　and　he's　so　faithful　he'd

come　if''　　With　a　little　cry　Billy　stopped

short。　　Then；　tremblingly；　she　sank　into　the

nearest　chair。　　‘‘Calderwelland　he's　coming　to

_dinner！_''　she　moaned。



For　two　benumbed　minutes　Billy　sat　staring

at　nothing。　　Then　she　ran　to　the　telephone　and

called　the　Annex。



Aunt　Hannah　answered。



‘‘Aunt　Hannah；　for　heaven's　sake；　if　you　love

me；''　pleaded　Billy；　‘‘send　Rosa　down　instanter！　

Pete　is　sick　over　to　South　Boston；　and　Eliza　is

with　him；　and　Bertram　is　bringing　Hugh　Calderwell

home　to　dinner。　　_Can_　you　spare　Rosa？''



‘‘Oh；　my　grief　and　conscience；　Billy！　　Of　course

I　canI　mean　I　couldbut　Rosa　isn't　here；

dear　child！　　It's　her　day　out；　you　know。''



‘‘O　dear；　of　course　it　is！　　I　might　have　known；

if　I'd　thought；　but　Pete　and　Eliza　have　spoiled

me。　　They　never　take　days　out　at　meal　time

both　together；　I　meanuntil　to…night。''



‘‘But；　my　dear　child；　what　will　you　do？''



‘‘I　don't　know。　　I've　got　to　think。　　I　_must_　do

something！''



‘‘Of　course　you　must！　　I'd　come　over　myself

if　it　wasn't　for　my　cold。''



‘‘As　if　I'd　let　you！''



‘‘There　isn't　anybody　here；　only　Tommy。　

Even　Alice　is　gone。　　Oh；　Billy；　Billy；　this　only

goes　to　prove　what　I've　always　said；　that　_no_

woman　_ought_　to　be　a　wife　until　she's　an　efficient

housekeeper；　and''



‘‘Yes；　yes；　Aunt　Hannah；　I　know；''　moaned

Billy；　frenziedly。　　‘‘But　I　am　a　wife；　and　I'm　not

an　efficient　housekeeper；　and　Hugh　Calderwell

won't　wait　for　me　to　learn。　　He's　coming　to…night。

_To…night！_　　And　I've　got　to　do　something。　　Never

mind。　　I'll　fix　it　some　way。　　Good…by！''



‘‘But；　Billy；　Billy！　　Oh；　my　grief　and　conscience；''

fluttered　Aunt　Hannah's　voice　across

the　wires　as　Billy　snapped　the　receiver　into

place。



For　the　second　time　that　day　Billy　backed

palpitatingly　against　the　wall。　　Her　eyes　sought

the　clock　fearfully。



Fifteen　minutes　past　four。　　She　had　an　hour　and

three　quarters。　　She　could；　of　course；　telephone

Bertram　to　dine　Calderwell　at　a　club　or　some

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　do

that！　　Anything　but　that！　　Besides；　very　likely

she　could　not　reach　Bertram；　anyway。　　Doubtless

he　had　left　the　Winthrops'　by　this　time。



Th