all.

He walked carefully, bent over and holding the pan at arm's length,
and as he entered the dining room the three diners looked up at him
in open mouthed surprise. They had forgotten all about Billy.

"Here it is," said Billy, with modest pride and an air of
accomplishment. "It is good and hot. I let it get as hot as it
could."

The blank amazement that had dulled the face of Kitty gave way to a
look of understanding and a smile as she remembered having ordered
him to get hot water, but the amazement on the faces of Mr. Fenelby
and his wife remained as blank as ever.

"It is hot water," said Billy, explaining. "I heated it. What shall
I do with it?"

The sodden surprise on Mr. Fenelby's face melted away. A dish-pan
full of hot water served during the course of a cold dinner had
amusing elements, and Mr. Fenelby smiled. So did Mrs. Fenelby.
Everybody smiled but Billy. He was serious.

"Well," he said, with a touch of impatience, "these handles are hot.
I can't stand here holding them all night. What do you want me to do
with this hot water?"

"What do you want to do with it?" asked Mr. Fenelby. "What do you
usually do with a panful of hot water when you have one? You might
take a bath, if you want to. You will find the bath-room at the top
of the stairs, first turn to the left. Run along, and don't stay in
the water too long."

Mrs. Fenelby and Kitty laughed, and Mr. Fenelby smiled broadly at
his own humor. Billy blushed.

"I heated it for Bobberts," he said, stiffly.

"Thank you!" said Mr. Fenelby. "But we won't boil Bobberts this
evening, Billy. Not just now, anyhow. We like to oblige, but we
can't be expected to boil our only son just because you turn up in
the middle of a meal with a pan of hot water. If we ever boil him it
will not be in the middle of a meal. Please don't insist."

Billy reddened to the roots of his hair. Mrs. Fenelby was laughing
openly and Tom was pleased with the excellence of his joke. Billy
raised his head angrily and strode out of the room, and Kitty, from
whose face the smile had fled, started up with blazing eyes.

"I think you are horrid!" she cried, turning to Bobberts' laughing
parents. "I think you ought to thank him instead of making fun of
him. I told him to heat the water, because Bobberts was hurt, and I
thought you might want it, and because he was trying to be helpful
and--and nice, you sit there and laugh at him. If you want to make
fun of anyone, make fun of