couldn't--couldn't come," stammered William with an uneasy
glance at his brother.

Billy laughed unexpectedly.

"It's too bad--about Mr. Cyril's not coming," she murmured. And again
Bertram caught the twinkle in the downcast eyes.

To Bertram the twinkle looked interesting, and worth pursuit; but at
the very beginning of the chase Calderwell's card came up, and that
ended--everything, so Bertram declared crossly to himself.

Billy found her dirt to dig in, and her furnace to shake, in Brookline.
There were closets, too, and a generous expanse of veranda. They all
belonged to a quaint little house perched on the side of Corey Hill.
From the veranda in the rear, and from many of the windows, one looked
out upon a delightful view of many-hued, many-shaped roofs nestling
among towering trees, with the wide sweep of the sky above, and the haze
of faraway hills at the horizon.

"In fact, it's as nearly perfect as it can be--and not take angel-wings
and fly away," declared Billy. "I have named it 'Hillside.'"

Very early in her career as house-owner, Billy decided that however
delightful it might be to have a furnace to shake, it would not be at
all delightful to shake it; besides, there was the new motor car to run.
Billy therefore sought and found a good, strong man who had not only the
muscle and the willingness to shake the furnace, but the skill to turn
chauffeur at a moment's notice. Best of all, this man had also a wife
who, with a maid to assist her, would take full charge of the house, and
thus leave Billy and Mrs. Stetson free from care. All these, together
with a canary, and a kitten as near like Spunk as could be obtained,
made Billy's household.

"And now I'm ready to see my friends," she announced.

"And I think your friends will be ready to see you," Bertram assured
her.

And they were--at least, so it appeared. For at once the little house
perched on the hillside became the Mecca for many of the Henshaws'
friends who had known Billy as William's merry, eighteen-year-old
namesake. There were others, too, whom Billy had met abroad; and
there were soft-stepping, sweet-faced old women and an occasional
white-whiskered old man--Aunt Hannah's friends--who found that the young
mistress of Hillside was a charming hostess. There were also the Henshaw
"boys," and there was always Calderwell--at least, so Bertram declared
to himself sometimes.

Bertram came frequently to the little house on the hill, even more