inary success on that occasion, coupled with his
familiarity with, and fitness for the part of Johnson in "The Girl
of the Golden West," led to his being chosen to take Dubassi's place
to-night. His performance is awaited with the greatest of interest.' Now
isn't that splendid for Mary Jane? I'm so glad!" beamed Aunt Hannah.

"Of course we're glad!" cried Billy. "And didn't it come just in time?
This is the last week of opera, anyway, you know."

"But it says he sang before--on a Saturday night," declared Aunt Hannah,
going back to the paper in her hand. "Now wouldn't you have thought we'd
have heard of it, or read of it? And wouldn't you have thought he'd have
told us?"

"Oh, well, maybe he didn't happen to see us so he could tell us,"
returned Billy with elaborate carelessness.

"I know it; but it's so funny he _hasn't_ seen us," contended Aunt
Hannah, frowning. "You know how much he used to be here."

Billy colored, and hurried into the fray.

"Oh, but he must have been so busy, with all this, you know. And of
course we didn't see it in the paper--because we didn't have any paper
at that time, probably. Oh, yes, that's my fault, I know," she laughed;
"and I was silly, I'll own. But we'll make up for it now. We'll go, of
course, I wish it had been on our regular season-ticket night, but I
fancy we can get seats somewhere; and I'm going to ask Alice Greggory
and her mother, too. I'll go down there this morning to tell them, and
to get the tickets. I've got it all planned."

Billy had, indeed, "got it all planned." She had been longing for
something that would take her away from the house--and if possible away
from herself. This would do the one easily, and might help on the other.
She rose at once.

"I'll go right away," she said.

"But, my dear," frowned Aunt Hannah, anxiously, "I don't believe I can
go to-night--though I'd love to, dearly."

"But why not?"

"I'm tired and half sick with a headache this morning. I didn't sleep,
and I've taken cold somewhere," sighed the lady, pulling the top shawl a
little higher about her throat.

"Why, you poor dear, what a shame!"

"Won't Bertram go?" asked Aunt Hannah.

Billy shook her head--but she did not meet Aunt Hannah's eyes.

"Oh, no. I sha'n't even ask him. He said last night he had a banquet
on for to-night--one of his art clubs, I believe." Billy's voice was
casualness itself.

"But you'll have the Greggorys--that is, Mrs. Greggory _can_ go, can't
sh