" said
this lady, coming up to say good-night. "But, all the same, I'm
glad my husband is just a plain lawyer. Look out, my dear, that while
Mr. Henshaw is stealing all those pretty faces for his canvases--just
look out that the fair ladies don't turn around and steal his heart
before you know it. Dear me, but you must be so proud of him!"

"I am," smiled Billy, serenely; and only the jagged split that rent the
glove on her hand, at that moment, told of the fierce anger behind that
smile.

"As if I couldn't trust Bertram!" raged Billy passionately to herself,
stealing a surreptitious glance at her ruined glove. "And as if there
weren't ever any perfectly happy marriages--even if you don't ever hear
of them, or read of them!"

Bertram was not home to luncheon on the day following the opening night
of the Bohemian Ten Club. A matter of business called him away from the
house early in the morning; but he told his wife that he surely would
be on hand for Miss Winthrop's call at half-past three o'clock that
afternoon.

"Yes, do," Billy had urged. "I think she's lovely, but you know her so
much better than I do that I want you here. Besides, you needn't think
_I'm_ going to show her all those Billys of yours. I may be vain, but
I'm not quite vain enough for that, sir!"

"Don't worry," her husband had laughed. "I'll be here."

As it chanced, however, something occurred an hour before half-past
three o'clock that drove every thought of Miss Winthrop's call from
Billy's head.

For three days, now, Pete had been at the home of his niece in South
Boston. He had been forced, finally, to give up and go away. News from
him the day before had been anything but reassuring, and to-day, Bertram
being gone, Billy had suggested that Eliza serve a simple luncheon and
go immediately afterward to South Boston to see how her uncle was. This
suggestion Eliza had followed, leaving the house at one o'clock.

Shortly after two Calderwell had dropped in to bring Bertram, as he
expressed it, a bunch of bouquets he had gathered at the picture show
the night before. He was still in the drawing-room, chatting with Billy,
when the telephone bell rang.

"If that's Bertram, tell him to come home; he's got company," laughed
Calderwell, as Billy passed into the hall.

A moment later he heard Billy give a startled cry, followed by a few
broken words at short intervals. Then, before he could surmise what
had happened, she was back in the drawing-