"
"My grief and conscience--no, no! That isn't what is needed at all.
It would only serve to make her self-conscious; and that's her one
salvation now--that she isn't self-conscious. You see, it's only the
fault of her environment and training, after all. It isn't her heart
that's wrong."
"Indeed it isn't!"
"It will be different when she is older--when she has seen a little more
of the world outside Hampden Falls. She'll go to school, of course, and
I think she ought to travel a little. Meanwhile, she mustn't live--just
like this, though; certainly not for a time, at least."
"No, no, I'm afraid not," agreed William, perplexedly, rising to his
feet. "But we must think--what can be done." His step was even slower
than usual as he left the room, and his eyes were troubled.
CHAPTER XV
WHAT BERTRAM CALLS "THE LIMIT"
At half past ten o'clock on the evening following Mrs. Stetson's very
plain talk with William, the telephone bell at the Beacon Street house
rang sharply. Pete answered it.
"Well?"--Pete never said "hello."
"Hello. Is that you, Pete?" called Billy's voice agitatedly. "Is Uncle
William there?"
"No, Miss Billy."
"Oh dear! Well, Mr. Cyril, then?"
"He's out, too, Miss Billy. And Mr. Bertram--they're all out."
"Yes, yes, I know HE'S out," almost sobbed Billy. "Dear, dear, what
shall I do! Pete, you'll have to come.
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