r
side of the sewing table.

"He was a dear," declared Billy. "I had another 'most as good when I
first came to Hillside, but he got lost. For a time it seemed as if I
never wanted another, but I've about come to the conclusion now that I
do, and I've told Bertram to find one for me if he can. You see I
shall be lonesome after you're gone, Marie, and I'll have to have
_something_," she finished mischievously.

"Oh, I don't mind the inference--as long as I know your admiration of
cats," laughed Marie.

"Let me see; Kate writes she is coming the tenth," murmured Aunt Hannah,
going back to the letter in her hand.

"Good!" nodded Billy. "That will give time to put little Kate through
her paces as flower girl."

"Yes, and it will give Big Kate time to _try_ to make your breakfast a
supper, and your roses pinks--or sunflowers," cut in a new voice, dryly.

"Cyril!" chorussed the three ladies in horror, adoration, and
amusement--according to whether the voice belonged to Aunt Hannah,
Marie, or Billy.

Cyril shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

"I beg your pardon," he apologized; "but Rosa said you were in here
sewing, and I told her not to bother. I'd announce myself. Just as I
got to the door I chanced to hear Billy's speech, and I couldn't
resist making the amendment. Maybe you've forgotten Kate's love of
managing--but I haven't," he finished, as he sauntered over to the chair
nearest Marie.

"No, I haven't--forgotten," observed Billy, meaningly.

"Nor I--nor anybody else," declared a severe voice--both the words and
the severity being most extraordinary as coming from the usually gentle
Aunt Hannah.

"Oh, well, never mind," spoke up Billy, quickly. "Everything's all right
now, so let's forget it. She always meant it for kindness, I'm sure."

"Even when she told you in the first place what a--er--torment you were
to us?" quizzed Cyril.

"Yes," flashed Billy. "She was being kind to _you_, then."

"Humph!" vouchsafed Cyril.

For a moment no one spoke. Cyril's eyes were on Marie, who was nervously
trying to smooth back a few fluffy wisps of hair that had escaped from
restraining combs and pins.

"What's the matter with the hair, little girl?" asked Cyril in a
voice that was caressingly irritable. "You've been fussing with that
long-suffering curl for the last five minutes!"

Marie's delicate face flushed painfully.

"It's got loose--my hair," she stammered, "and it looks so dowdy that
way!"

Billy dropp