Without waiting for more they leaped to the stairway and
hurried up, two steps at a time.
"For heaven's sake, Kate, what is it?" panted William, who had been
outdistanced by his more agile brothers.
Kate was on her feet, her face the picture of distressed amazement. In
the low chair by the window Billy sat where she had flung herself, her
hands over her face. Her shoulders were shaking, and from her throat
came choking little cries.
"I don't know," quavered Kate. "I haven't the least idea. She was all
right till she got up-stairs here, and I turned on the lights. Then she
gave one shriek and--you know all I know."
William advanced hurriedly.
"Billy, what is the matter? What are you crying for?" he demanded.
Billy dropped her hands then, and they saw her face. She was not crying.
She was laughing. She was laughing so she could scarcely speak.
"Oh, you did, you did!" she gurgled. "I thought you did, and now I
know!"
"Did what? What do you mean?" William's usually gentle voice was sharp.
Even William's nerves were beginning to feel the strain of the last few
hours.
"Thought I was a--b-boy!" choked Billy. "You called me 'he' once in the
station--I thought you did; but I wasn't sure--not till I saw this room.
But now I know--I know!" And off she went into another hysterical gale
of laughter--Billy's nerves, too, were beginning to respond to the
excitement of the last few hours.
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