Billy was
romantic. To sally gaily forth with a pink in the buttonhole of her
coat to find her father's friend who was a "Billy" too, seemed to Billy
Neilson not only delightful, but eminently sensible, and an excellent
way out of her present homesick loneliness. So she bought the pink and
her ticket, and impatiently awaited the time to start.
To the Beacon Street house, Billy's cheerful telegram brought the direst
consternation. Even Kate was hastily summoned to the family conclave
that immediately resulted.
"There's nothing--simply nothing that I can do," she declared irritably,
when she had heard the story. "Surely, you don't expect ME to take the
boy!"
"No, no, of course not," sighed William. "But you see, I supposed I'd
have time to--to get used to things, and to make arrangements; and this
is so--so sudden! I hadn't even answered Harding's letter until to-day;
and he hasn't got that--much less replied to it."
"But what could you expect after sending that idiotic telegram?"
demanded the lady. "'Come,' indeed!"
"But that's what Billy told me to do."
"What if it was? Just because a foolish eighteen-year-old boy tells
you to do something, must you, a supposedly sensible forty-year-old man
obey?"
"I think it tickled Will's romantic streak," laughed Bertram. "It seemed
so sort of alluring to send that one word 'Come' out into space, and
watch what happened.
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