wift lowering of her eyelids. But Billy looked him
now straight in the face--it was a level, frank gaze of absolute truth.

"Never, dear," she said firmly. (Billy was so glad Bertram had turned
the question on _her_ love instead of Arkwright's!) "There has never
really been any one but you."

"Thank God for that," breathed Bertram, as he drew the bright head
nearer and held it close.

After a minute Billy stirred and sighed happily.

"Aren't lovers the beat'em for imagining things?" she murmured.

"They certainly are."

"You see--I wasn't in love with Mr. Arkwright."

"I see--I hope."

"And--and you didn't care _specially_ for--for Miss Winthrop?"

"Eh? Well, no!" exploded Bertram. "Do you mean to say you really--"

Billy put a soft finger on his lips.

"Er--'people who live in _glass houses_,' you know," she reminded him,
with roguish eyes.

Bertram kissed the finger and subsided.

"Humph!" he commented.

There was a long silence; then, a little breathlessly, Billy asked:

"And you don't--after all, love me--just to paint?"

"Well, what is that? Is that Kate, too?" demanded Bertram, grimly.

Billy laughed.

"No--oh, she said it, all right, but, you see, _everybody_ said that to
me, Bertram; and that's what made me so--so worried sometimes when you
talked about the tilt of my chin, and all that."

"Well, by Jove!" breathed Bertram.

There was another silence. Then, suddenly, Bertram stirred.

"Billy, I'm going to marry you to-morrow," he announced decisively.

Billy lifted her head and sat back in palpitating dismay.

"Bertram! What an absurd idea!"

"Well, I am. I don't _know_ as I can trust you out of my sight till
_then!_ You'll read something, or hear something, or get a letter from
Kate after breakfast to-morrow morning, that will set you 'saving me'
again; and I don't want to be saved--that way. I'm going to marry you
to-morrow. I'll get--" He stopped short, with a sudden frown. "Confound
that law! I forgot. Great Scott, Billy, I'll have to trust you five
days, after all! There's a new law about the license. We've _got_ to
wait five days--and maybe more, counting in the notice, and all."

Billy laughed softly.

"Five days, indeed, sir! I wonder if you think I can get ready to be
married in five days."

"Don't want you to get ready," retorted Bertram, promptly. "I saw Marie
get ready, and I had all I wanted of it. If you really must have all
those miles of tablecloths and napkins