could get out of anything. I might as well own right up. I DON'T
like you as well as I do Uncle William and Mr. Bertram. So there!"

Cyril laughed. For the first time since he had seen Billy, something
that was very like interest came into his eyes.

"Oh, you don't," he retorted. "Now that is--er--very UNkind of you."

Billy shook her head.

"You don't say that as if you meant it," she accused him, her eyes
gravely studying his face. "Now I'M in earnest. _I_ really want to like
YOU!"

"Thank you. Then perhaps you won't mind telling me why you don't like
me," he suggested.

Again Billy flushed.

"Why, I--I just don't; that's all," she faltered. Then she cried
aggrievedly: "There, now! you've made me be impolite; and I didn't mean
to be, truly."

"Of course not," assented the man; "and it wasn't impolite, because I
asked you for the information, you know. I may conclude then," he went
on with an odd twinkle in his eyes, "that I am merely classed with tripe
and rainy days."

"With--wha-at?"

"Tripe and rainy days. Those are the only things, if I remember rightly,
that you don't like."

The girl stared; then she chuckled.

"There! I knew I'd like you better if you'd only SAY something," she
beamed. "But let's not talk any more about that. Play to me; won't you?
You know you promised me 'The Maiden's Prayer.'"

Cyril stiffened.

"Pardon me, but you must be mistaken," he replied coldly. "I do not play
'The Maiden's Prayer.'"

"Oh, what a shame! And I do so love it! But you play other things;
I've heard you a little, and Mr. Bertram says you do--in concerts and
things."

"Does he?" murmured Cyril, with a slight lifting of his eyebrows.

"There! Now off you go again all silent and horrid!" chaffed Billy.
"What have I said now? Mr. Cyril--do you know what I think? I believe
you've got NERVES!" Billy's voice was so tragic that the man could but
laugh.

"Perhaps I have, Miss Billy."

"Like Miss Letty's?"

"I'm not acquainted with the lady."

"Gee! wouldn't you two make a pair!" chuckled Billy unexpectedly. "No;
but, really, I mean--do you want people to walk on tiptoe and speak in
whispers?"

"Sometimes, perhaps."

The girl sprang to her feet--but she sighed.

"Then I'm going. This might be one of the times, you know." She
hesitated, then walked to the piano. "My, wouldn't I like to play on
that!" she breathed.

Cyril shuddered. Cyril could imagine what Billy would play--and Cyril
did not like