"Got what?" faltered the other.
"Spunk. Oh, I don't mean THAT kind," laughed William, in answer to the
dismayed expression on his aunt's face. "Spunk is a cat."
"A cat!--but such a name, William! I--I think we'll change that."
"Eh? Oh, you do," murmured William, with a curious smile. "Very well; be
that as it may. Anyhow, you're coming, and we shall want you all settled
by dinner time," he finished, as he picked up his hat to go.
With Kate, Billy spent the long day very contentedly in Kate's beautiful
Commonwealth Avenue home. The two boys, Paul, twelve years old, and
Egbert, eight, were a little shy, it is true, and not really of much use
as companions; but there was a little Kate, four years old, who proved
to be wonderfully entertaining.
Billy was not much used to children, and she found this four-year-old
atom of humanity to be a great source of interest and amusement. She
even told Mrs. Hartwell at parting that little Kate was almost as nice
as Spunk--which remark, oddly enough, did not appear to please Mrs.
Hartwell to the extent that Billy thought that it would.
At the Beacon Street house Billy was presented at once to Mrs. Stetson.
"And you are to call me 'Aunt Hannah,' my dear," said the little woman,
graciously, "just as the boys do."
"Thank you," dimpled Billy, "and you don't know, Aunt Hannah, how good
it seems to me to come into so many relatives, all at once!"
Upon going up-stairs Billy found her room somewhat changed.
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