He　told　himself　wearily　that　she　could　not　help
  him　fight　this　tiger　skin　that　lay　across　his　path；
  The　very　fact　of　her　presence　by　his　side　would；
  indeed；　incapacitate　himself　for　fighting。　　So　he
  deliberately　stayed　away　from　the　Annex　until
  the　day　before　he　sailed　for　Germany。　　Then　he
  went　out　to　say　good…by。
  Chagrined　as　he　was　at　what　he　termed　his
  imbecile　stupidity　in　not　knowing　his　own　heart　all
  these　past　months；　and　convinced；　as　he　also　was；
  that　Alice　and　Calderwell　cared　for　each　other；
  he　could　see　no　way　for　him　but　to　play　the　part
  of　a　man　of　kindliness　and　honor；　leaving　a　clear
  field　for　his　preferred　rival；　and　bringing　no
  shadow　of　regret　to　mar　the　happiness　of　the　girl
  he　loved。
  As　for　being　his　old　easy；　frank　self　on　this　last
  call；　however；　that　was　impossible；　so　Alice　found
  plenty　of　fuel　for　her　still　burning　fires　of
  suspicionfires　which　had；　indeed；　blazed　up　anew
  at　this　second　long　period　of　absence　on　the　part
  of　Arkwright。　　Naturally；　therefore；　the　call　was
  anything　but　a　joy　and　comfort　to　either　one。
  Arkwright　was　nervous；　gloomy；　and　abnormally
  gay　by　turns。　　Alice　was　nervous　and　abnormally
  gay　all　the　time。　　Then　they　said　good…by　and
  Arkwright　went　away。　　He　sailed　the　next　day；
  and　Alice　settled　down　to　the　summer　of　study
  and　hard　work　she　had　laid　out　for　herself。
  On　the　tenth　of　September　Billy　came　home。
  She　was　brown；　plump…cheeked；　and　smiling。　　She
  declared　that　she　had　had　a　perfectly　beautiful
  time；　and　that　there　couldn't　be　anything　in　the
  world　nicer　than　the　trip　she　and　Bertram　had
  takenjust　they　two　together。　　In　answer　to
  Aunt　Hannah's　solicitous　inquiries；　she　asserted
  that　she　was　all　well　and　rested　now。　　But　there
  was　a　vaguely　troubled　questioning　in　her　eyes
  that　Aunt　Hannah　did　not　quite　like。　　Aunt
  Hannah；　however；　said　nothing　even　to　Billy
  herself　about　this。
  One　of　the　first　friends　Billy　saw　after　her　return
  was　Hugh　Calderwell。　　As　it　happened　Bertram
  was　out　when　he　came；　so　Billy　had　the　first　half…
  hour　of　the　call　to　herself。　　She　was　not　sorry　for
  this；　as　it　gave　her　a　chance　to　question　Calderwell
  a　little　concerning　Alice　Greggorysomething
  she　had　long　ago　determined　to　do　at　the
  first　opportunity。
  ‘‘Now　tell　me　everythingeverything　about
  everybody；''　she　began　diplomatically；　settling
  herself　comfortably　for　a　good　visit。
  ‘‘Thank　you；　I'm　well；　and　have　had　a
  passably　agreeable　summer；　barring　the　heat；　sundry
  persistent　mosquitoes；　several　grievous　disappointments；
  and　a　felon　on　my　thumb；''　he　began；　with
  shameless　imperturbability。　　‘‘I　have　been　to
  Revere　once；　to　the　circus　once；　to　Nantasket
  three　times；　and　to　Keith's　and　the　‘movies'　ten
  times；　perhapsto　be　accurate。　　I　have　also
  But　perhaps　there　was　some　one　else　you　desired
  to　inquire　for；''　he　broke　off；　turning　upon
  his　hostess　a　bland　but　unsmiling　countenance。
  ‘‘Oh；　no；　how　could　there　be？''　twinkled　Billy。
  ‘‘Really；　Hugh；　I　always　knew　you　had　a　pretty
  good　opinion　of　yourself；　but　I　didn't　credit　you
  with　thinking　you　were　_everybody_。　　Go　on。　　I'm
  so　interested！''
  Hugh　chuckled　softly；　but　there　was　a　plaintive
  tone　in　his　voice　as　he　answered。
  ‘‘Thanks；　no。　　I've　rather　lost　my　interest
  now。　　Lack　of　appreciation　always　did　discourage
  me。　　We'll　talk　of　something　else；　please。　　You
  enjoyed　your　trip？''
  ‘‘Very　much。　　It　just　couldn't　have　been
  nicer！''
  ‘‘You　were　lucky。　　The　heat　here　has　been
  something　fierce！''
  ‘‘What　made　you　stay？''
  ‘‘Reasons　too　numerous；　and　one　too　heart…
  breaking；　to　mention。　　Besides；　you　forget；''　with
  dignity。　　‘‘There　is　my　profession。　　I　have　joined
  the　workers　of　the　world　now；　you　know。''
  ‘‘Oh；　fudge；　Hugh！''　laughed　Billy。　　‘‘You
  know　very　well　you're　as　likely　as　not　to　start
  for　the　ends　of　the　earth　to…morrow　morning！''
  Hugh　drew　himself　up。
  ‘‘I　don't　seem　to　succeed　in　making　people
  understand　that　I'm　serious；''　he　began　aggrievedly。
  ‘‘I''　　With　an　expressive　flourish
  of　his　hands　he　relaxed　suddenly；　and　fell　back
  in　his　chair。　　A　slow　smile　came　to　his　lips。
  ‘‘Well；　Billy；　I'll　give　up。　　You've　hit　it；''　he
  confessed。　　‘‘I　_have_　thought　seriously　of　starting　to…
  morrow　morning　for　_half…way_　to　the　ends　of　the
  earthPanama。''
  ‘‘Hugh！''
  ‘‘Well；　I　have。　　Even　this　call　was　to　be　a
  good…byif　I　went。''
  ‘‘Oh；　Hugh！　　But　I　really　thoughtin　spite
  of　my　teasingthat　you　had　settled　down；　this
  time。''
  ‘‘Yes；　so　did　I；''　sighed　the　man；　a　little　soberly。
  ‘‘But　I　guess　it's　no　use；　Billy。　　Oh；　I'm　coming
  back；　of　course；　and　link　arms　again　with　their
  worthy　Highnesses；　John　Doe　and　Richard　Roe；
  but　just　now　I've　got　a　restless　fit　on　me。　　I　want
  to　see　the　wheels　go　'round。　　Of　course；　if　I　had
  my　bread　and　butter　and　cigars　to　earn；　'twould
  be　different。　　But　I　haven't；　and　I　know　I　haven't；
  and　I　suspect　that's　where　the　trouble　lies。　　If　it
  wasn't　for　those　natal　silver　spoons　of　mine　that
  Bertram　is　always　talking　about；　things　might　be
  different。　　But　the　spoons　are　there；　and　always
  have　been；　and　I　know　they're　all　ready　to　dish
  out　mountains　to　climb　and　lakes　to　paddle　in；
  any　time　I've　a　mind　to　say　the　word。　　SoI
  just　say　the　word。　　That's　all。''
  ‘‘And　you've　said　it　now？''
  ‘‘Yes；　I　think　so；　for　a　while。''
  ‘‘Andthose　reasons　that　_have_　kept　you　here
  all　summer；''　ventured　Billy；　‘‘they　aren't　in
  ercommission　any　longer？''
  ‘‘No。''
  Billy　hesitated；　regarding　her　companion
  meditatively。　　Then；　with　the　feeling　that　she　had
  followed　a　blind　alley　to　its　termination；　she
  retreated　and　made　a　fresh　start。
  ‘‘Well；　you　haven't　yet　told　me　everything
  about　everybody；　you　know；''　she　hinted
  smilingly。　　‘‘You　might　begin　thatI　mean　the
  less　important　everybodies；　of　course；　now　that
  I've　heard　about　you。''
  ‘‘Meaning''
  ‘‘Oh；　Aunt　Hannah；　and　the　Greggorys；　and
  Cyril　and　Marie；　and　the　twins；　and　Mr。　Arkwright；
  and　all　the　rest。''
  ‘‘But　you've　had　letters；　surely。''
  ‘‘Yes；　I've　had　letters　from　some　of　them；　and
  I've　seen　most　of　them　since　I　came　back。　　It's
  just　that　I　wanted　to　know　_your_　viewpoint　of
  what's　happened　through　the　summer。''
  ‘‘Very　well。　　Aunt　Hannah　is　as　dear　as　ever；
  wears　just　as　many　shawls；　and　still　keeps　her
  clock　striking　twelve　when　it's　half…past　eleven。
  Mrs。　Greggory　is　just　as　sweet　as　everand　a
  little　more　frail；　I　fear；bless　her　heart！　　Mr。
  Arkwright　is　still　abroad；　as　I　presume　you　know。
  I　hear　he　is　doing　great　stunts　over　there；　and
  will　sing　in　Berlin　and　Paris　this　winter。　　I'm
  thinking　of　going　across　from　Panama　later。　　If
  I　do　I　shall　look　him　up。　　Mr。　and　Mrs。　Cyril
  are　as　well　as　could　be　expected　when　you　realize
  that　they　haven't　yet　settled　on　a　pair　of　names
  for　the　twins。''
  ‘‘I　know　itand　the　poor　little　things　three
  months　old；　too！　　I　think　it's　a　shame。　　You've
  heard　the　reason；　I　suppose。　　Cyril　declares　that
  naming　babies　is　one　of　the　most　serious　and
  delicate　operations　in　the　world；　and　that；　for　his
  part；　he　thinks　people　ought　to　select　their　own
  names　when　they've　arrived　at　years　of　discretion。
  He　wants　to　wait　till　the　twins　are　eighteen；
  and　then　make　each　of　them　a　birthday　present
  of　the　name　of　their　own　choosing。''
  ‘‘Well；　if　that　isn't　the　limit！''　laughed
  Calderwell。　　‘‘I'd　heard　some　such　thing　before；　but
  I　hadn't　supposed　it　was　really　so。''
  ‘‘Well；　it　is。　　He　says　he　knows　more　tomboys
  and　enormous　fat　women　named　‘Grace'　and
  ‘Lily；'　and　sweet　little　mouse…like　ladies　staggering
  along　under　a　sonorous　‘Jerusha　Theodosia'
  or　‘Zenobia　Jane'；　and　that　if　he　should　name
  the　boys　‘Franz'　and　‘Felix'　after　Schubert
  and　Mendelssohn　as　Marie　wants　to；　they'd　as
  likely　as　not　turn　out　to　be　men　who　hated　the
  sound　of　music　and　doted　on　stocks　and　dry
  goods。''
  ‘‘Humph！''　grunted　Calderwell。　　‘‘I　saw　Cyril
  last　week；　and　he　said　he　hadn't　named　the　twins
  yet；　but　he　didn't　tell　me　why。　　I　offered　him
  two　perfectly　good　names　myself；　but　he　didn't
  seem　interested。''
  ‘‘What　were　they？''
  ‘‘Eldad　and　Bildad。''
  ‘‘Hugh！''　protested　Billy。
  ‘‘Well；　why　not？''　bridled　the　man。　　‘‘I'm
  sure　those　are　new　and　unique；　and　really　musical；
  too'way　ahead　of　your　Franz　and　Felix。''
  ‘‘But　those　aren't　really　names！''
  ‘‘Indeed　they　are。''
  ‘‘Where　did　you　get　them？''
  ‘‘Off　our　family　tree；　though　they're　Bible
  names；　Belle　says。　　Perhaps　you　didn't　know；　but
  Sister　Belle　has　been　making　the　dirt　fly　quite
  lively　of　late　around　that　family　tree　of　ours；　and
  she　wrote　me　some　of　her　discoveries。　　It　seems
  two　of　the　roots；　or　branchessay；　are　ancestors
  roots；　or　branches？were　called　Eldad　and
  Bildad。　　Now　I　thought　those　names　were　good
  enough　to　p