straight on--and Billy saw then, under the arc light, a brown-bearded
man who was not Bertram at all.

Three times during the next few minutes did the waiting little bride
on the doorstep watch with palpitating yearning a shadowy form appear,
approach--and pass by. At the third heart-breaking disappointment, Billy
wrung her hands helplessly.

"I don't see how there can be--so many--utterly _useless_ people in the
world!" she choked. Then, thoroughly chilled and sick at heart, she went
into the house and closed the door.

Once again, back and forth, back and forth, Billy took up her weary
vigil. She still wore the heavy coat. She had forgotten to take it off.
Her face was pitifully white and drawn. Her eyes were wild. One of her
hands was nervously caressing the rough sleeve of the coat as it hung
from her shoulder.

One--two--three--

Billy gave a sharp cry and ran into the hall.

Yes, it was twelve o'clock. And now, always, all the rest of the
dreary, useless hours that that clock would tick away through an endless
existence, she would have to live--without Bertram. If only she could
see him once more! But she could not. He was dead. He must be dead, now.
Here it was twelve o'clock, and--

There came a quick step, the click of a key in the lock, then the door
swung back and Bertram, big, strong, and merry-eyed, stood before her.

"Well, well, hullo," he called jovially. "Why, Billy, what's the matter?"
he broke off, in quite a different tone of voice.

And then a curious thing happened. Billy, who, a minute before, had been
seeing only a dear, noble, adorable, _lost_ Bertram, saw now suddenly
only the man that had stayed _happily_ till midnight with two friends,
while she--she--

"Matter! Matter!" exclaimed Billy sharply, then. "Is this what you call
staying to dinner, Bertram Henshaw?"

Bertram stared. A slow red stole to his forehead. It was his first
experience of coming home to meet angry eyes that questioned his
behavior--and he did not like it. He had been, perhaps, a little
conscience-smitten when he saw how late he had stayed; and he had
intended to say he was sorry, of course. But to be thus sharply
called to account for a perfectly innocent good time with a couple of
friends--! To come home and find Billy making a ridiculous scene like
this--! He--he would not stand for it! He--

Bertram's lips snapped open. The angry retort was almost spoken when
something in the piteously quivering chin a