but　once　beyond　their　hateful　stare；　his　demeanor
  underwent　a　complete　change。　　Throwing　aside
  his　hat　and　coat；　he　strode　to　the　telephone。
  ‘‘Oh；　is　that　you；　Aunt　Hannah？''　he　called
  crisply；　a　moment　later。　　‘‘Well；　if　Billy's　there
  will　you　tell　her　I　want　to　speak　to　her；
  please？''
  ‘‘Billy？''　answered　Aunt　Hannah's　slow；　gentle
  tones。　　‘‘Why；　my　dear　boy；　Billy　isn't　here！''
  ‘‘She　isn't？　　Well；　when　did　she　leave？　　She's
  been　there；　hasn't　she？''
  ‘‘Why；　I　don't　think　so；　but　I'll　see；　if　you
  like。　　Mrs。　Greggory　and　I　have　just　this　minute
  come　in　from　an　automobile　ride。　　We　would
  have　stayed　longer；　but　it　began　to　get　chilly；　and
  I　forgot　to　take　one　of　the　shawls　that　I'd　laid
  out。''
  ‘‘Yes；　well；　if　you　will　see；　please；　if　Billy　has
  been　there；　and　when　she　left；''　said　Bertram；
  with　grim　self…control。
  ‘‘All　right。　　I'll　see；''　murmured　Aunt　Hannah。
  In　a　few　moments　her　voice　again　sounded　across
  the　wires。　　‘‘Why；　no；　Bertram；　Rosa　says　she
  hasn't　been　here　since　yesterday。　　Isn't　she　there
  somewhere　about　the　house？　　Didn't　you　know
  where　she　was　going？''
  ‘‘Well；　no；　I　didn'telse　I　shouldn't　have
  been　asking　you；''　snapped　the　irate　Bertram
  and　hung　up　the　receiver　with　most　rude　haste；
  thereby　cutting　off　an　astounded　‘‘Oh；　my　grief
  and　conscience！''　in　the　middle　of　it。
  The　next　ten　minutes　Bertram　spent　in　going
  through　the　whole　house；　from　garret　to　basement。
  Needless　to　say；　he　found　nothing　to
  enlighten　him；　or　to　soothe　his　temper。　　Four
  o'clock　came；　then　half…past；　and　five。　　At　five
  Bertram　began　to　look　for　Eliza；　but　in　vain。
  At　half…past　five　he　watched　for　William；　but
  William；　too；　did　not　come。
  Bertram　was　pacing　the　floor　now；　nervously。
  He　was　a　little　frightened；　but　more　mortified
  and　angry。　　That　Billy　should　have　allowed　Miss
  Winthrop　to　call　by　appointment　only　to　find
  no　hostess；　no　message；　no　maid；　even；　to　answer
  her　ringit　was　inexcusable！　　Impulsiveness；
  unconventionality；　and　girlish　irresponsibility　were
  all　very　delightful；　of　courseat　times；　but
  not　now；　certainly。　　Billy　was　not　a　girl　any
  longer。　　She　was　a　married　woman。　　_Something_
  was　due　to　him；　her　husband！　　A　pretty　picture
  he　must　have　made　on　those　steps；　trying　to
  apologize　for　a　truant　wife；　and　to　laugh　off　that
  absurd　Bessie　Bailey's　preposterous　assertion　at
  the　same　time！　　What　would　Miss　Winthrop
  think？　　What　could　she　think？　　Bertram　fairly
  ground　his　teeth　with　chagrin；　at　the　situation
  in　which　he　found　himself。
  Nor　were　matters　helped　any　by　the　fact　that
  Bertram　was　hungry。　　Bertram's　luncheon　had
  been　meager　and　unsatisfying。　　That　the　kitchen
  down…stairs　still　remained　in　silent；　spotless　order
  instead　of　being　astir　with　the　sounds　and　smells
  of　a　good　dinner　（as　it　should　have　been）　did　not
  improve　his　temper。　　Where　Billy　was　he　could
  not　imagine。　　He　thought；　once　or　twice；　of
  calling　up　some　of　her　friends；　but　something
  held　him　back　from　thatthough　he　did　try　to
  get　Marie；　knowing　very　well　that　she　was　probably
  over　to　the　new　house　and　would　not　answer。
  He　was　not　surprised；　therefore；　when　he　received
  no　reply　to　his　ring。
  That　there　was　the　slightest　truth　in　Bessie
  Bailey's　absurd　‘‘elopement''　idea；　Bertram　did
  not；　of　course；　for　an　instant　believe。　　The　only
  thing　that　rankled　about　that　was　the　fact　that
  she　had　suggested　such　a　thing；　and　that　Miss
  Winthrop　and　those　silly　children　had　heard
  her。　　He　recognized　half　of　Bessie's　friends　as
  neighborhood　youngsters；　and　he　knew　very　well
  that　there　would　be　many　a　quiet　laugh　at　his
  expense　around　various　Beacon　Street　dinner…
  tables　that　night。　　At　the　thought　of　those
  dinner…tables；　he　scowled　again。　　_He_　had　no
  dinner…tableat　least；　he　had　no　dinner　on　it！
  Who　the　man　might　be　Bertram　thought　he
  could　easily　guess。　　It　was　either　Arkwright　or
  Calderwell；　of　course；　and　probably　that　tiresome
  Alice　Greggory　was　mixed　up　in　it　somehow。
  He　did　wish　Billy
  Six　o'clock　came；　then　half…past。　　Bertram　was
  indeed　frightened　now；　but　he　was　more　angry；
  and　still　more　hungry。　　He　had；　in　fact；　reached
  that　state　of　blind　unreasonableness　said　to　be
  peculiar　to　hungry　males　from　time　immemorial。
  At　ten　minutes　of　seven　a　key　clicked　in　the
  lock　of　the　outer　door；　and　William　and　Billy
  entered　the　hall。
  It　was　almost　dark。　　Bertram　could　not　see
  their　faces。　　He　had　not　lighted　the　hall　at　all。
  ‘‘Well；''　he　began　sharply；　‘‘is　this　the　way
  you　receive　your　callers；　Billy？　　I　came　home
  and　found　Miss　Winthrop　just　leavingno　one
  here　to　receive　her！　　Where've　you　been？　　Where's
  Eliza？　　Where's　my　dinner？　　Of　course　I　don't
  mean　to　scold；　Billy；　but　there　is　a　limit　to　even
  my　patienceand　it's　reached　now。　　I　can't
  help　suggesting　that　if　you　would　tend　to　your
  husband　and　your　home　a　little　more；　and　go
  gallivanting　off　with　Calderwell　and　Arkwright
  and　Alice　Greggory　a　little　less；　that　　Where　is
  Eliza；　anyway？''　he　finished　irritably；　switching
  on　the　lights　with　a　snap。
  There　was　a　moment　of　dead　silence。　　At
  Bertram's　first　words　Billy　and　William　had
  stopped　short。　　Neither　had　moved　since。　　Now
  William　turned　and　began　to　speak；　but　Billy
  interrupted。　　She　met　her　husband's　gaze　steadily。
  ‘‘I　will　be　down　at　once　to　get　your　dinner；''
  she　said　quietly。　　‘‘Eliza　will　not　come　to…night。
  Pete　is　dead。''
  Bertram　started　forward　with　a　quick　cry。
  ‘‘Dead！　　Oh；　Billy！　　Then　you　were_there！_
  Billy！''
  But　his　wife　did　not　apparently　hear　him。　　She
  passed　him　without　turning　her　head；　and　went
  on　up　the　stairs；　leaving　him　to　meet　the　sorrowful；
  accusing　eyes　of　William。
  CHAPTER　XV
  AFTER　THE　STORM
  The　young　husband's　apologies　were　profuse
  and　abject。　　Bertram　was　heartily　ashamed　of
  himself；　and　was　man　enough　to　acknowledge　it。
  Almost　on　his　knees　he　begged　Billy　to　forgive
  him；　and　in　a　frenzy　of　self…denunciation　he
  followed　her　down　into　the　kitchen　that　night；
  piteously　beseeching　her　to　speak　to　him；　to　just
  _look_　at　him；　even；　so　that　he　might　know　he　was
  not　utterly　despisedthough　he　did；　indeed；
  deserve　to　be　more　than　despised；　he　moaned。
  At　first　Billy　did　not　speak；　or　even　vouchsafe
  a　glance　in　his　direction。　　Very　quietly　she　went
  about　her　preparations　for　a　simple　meal；　paying
  apparently　no　more　attention　to　Bertram　than　as
  if　he　were　not　there。　　But　that　her　ears　were　only
  seemingly；　and　not　really　deaf；　was　shown　very
  clearly　a　little　later；　when；　at　a　particularly　abject
  wail　on　the　part　of　the　babbling　shadow　at　her
  heels；　Billy　choked　into　a　little　gasp；　half　laughter；
  half　sob。　　It　was　all　over　then。　　Bertram　had
  her　in　his　arms　in　a　twinkling；　while　to　the　floor
  clattered　and　rolled　a　knife　and　a　half…peeled
  baked　potato。
  Naturally；　after　that；　there　could　be　no　more
  dignified　silences　on　the　part　of　the　injured　wife。
  There　were；　instead；　half…smiles；　tears；　sobs；　a
  tremulous　telling　of　Pete's　going　and　his　messages；
  followed　by　a　tearful　listening　to　Bertram's　story
  of　the　torture　he　had　endured　at　the　hands　of
  Miss　Winthrop；　Bessie　Bailey；　and　an　empty；
  dinnerless　house。　　And　thus；　in　one　corner　of　the
  kitchen；　some　time　later；　a　hungry；　desperate
  William　found　them；　the　half…peeled；　cold　baked
  potato　still　at　their　feet。
  Torn　between　his　craving　for　food　and　his
  desire　not　to　interfere　with　any　possible　peace…
  making；　William　was　obviously　hesitating　what
  to　do；　when　Billy　glanced　up　and　saw　him。　　She
  saw；　too；　at　the　same　time；　the　empty；　blazing
  gas…stove　burner；　and　the　pile　of　half…prepared
  potatoes；　to　warm　which　the　burner　had　long
  since　been　lighted。　　With　a　little　cry　she　broke
  away　from　her　husband's　arms。
  ‘‘Mercy！　and　here's　poor　Uncle　William；
  bless　his　heart；　with　not　a　thing　to　eat　yet！''
  They　all　got　dinner　then；　together；　with　many
  a　sigh　and　quick…coming　tear　as　everywhere　they
  met　some　sad　reminder　of　the　gentle　old　hands
  that　would　never　again　minister　to　their　comfort。
  It　was　a　silent　meal；　and　little；　after　all；　was
  eaten；　though　brave　attempts　at　cheerfulness
  and　naturalness　were　made　by　all　three。　　Bertram；
  especially；　talked；　and　tried　to　make　sure
  that　the　shadow　on　Billy's　face　was　at　least　not
  the　one　his　own　conduct　had　brought　there。
  ‘‘For　you　doyou　surely　do　forgive　me；　don't
  you？''　he　begged；　as　he　followed　her　into　the
  kitchen　after　the　sorry　meal　was　over。
  ‘‘Why；　yes；　dear；　yes；''　sighed　Billy；　trying　to
  smile。
  ‘‘And　you'll　forget？''
  There　was　no　answer。
  ‘‘Billy！　　And　you'll　forget？''　Bertram's　voice
  was　insistent；　reproachful。
  Billy　changed　color　and　bit　her　lip。　　She　looked
  plainly　distressed。
  ‘‘Billy！''　cried　the　man；　still　more　reproachfully。
  ‘‘But；　Bertram；