e noticeable, because heretofore Marie, while
very sweet, had been also sad. Her big blue eyes had always carried a
haunting shadow, and her step had lacked the spring belonging to youth
and happiness. Certainly, Billy had never seen her like this before.

"Verily, Marie," she teased one day, "have you found an exhaustless
supply of stockings to mend, or a never-done pudding to make--which?"

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Oh, nothing. I was only wondering just what had brought that new light
to your eyes."

"Is there a new light?"

"There certainly is."

"It must be because I'm so happy, then," sighed Marie; "because you're
so good to me."

"Is that all?"

"Isn't that enough?" Marie's tone was evasive.

"No." Billy shook her head mischievously. "Marie, what is it?"

"It's nothing--really, it's nothing," protested Marie, hurrying out of
the room with a nervous laugh.

Billy frowned. She was suspicious before; she was sure now. In less than
twelve hours' time came her opportunity. She was alone again with Marie.

"Marie, who is he?" she asked abruptly.

"He? Who?"

"The man who is to wear the stockings and eat the pudding."

The little music teacher flushed very red, but she managed to display
something that might pass for surprise.

"BILLY!"

"Come, dear," coaxed Billy, winningly. "Tell me about it. I'm so
interested!"

"But there isn't anything to tell--really there isn't."

"Who is he?"

"He isn't anybody--that is, he doesn't know he's anybody," amended
Marie.

Billy laughed softly.

"Oh, doesn't he! Hasn't he ever shown--that he cared?"

"No; that is--perhaps he has, only I thought then--that it was--another
girl."

"Another girl! So there's another girl in the case?"

"Yes. I mean, no," corrected Marie, suddenly beginning to realize what
she was saying. "Really, it wasn't anything--it isn't anything!" she
protested.

"Hm-m," murmured Billy, archly. "Oh, I'm getting on some! He did show,
once, that he cared; but you thought it was another girl, and you
coldly looked the other way. Now, there ISN'T any other girl, you find,
and--Marie, tell me the rest!"

Marie shook her head emphatically, and pulled herself gently away from
Billy's grasp.

"No, no, please!" she begged. "It really isn't anything. I'm sure I'm
imagining it all!" she cried, as she ran away.

During the days that followed, Billy speculated not a little on Marie's
half-told story, and wondered interestedly who the man