William frowned at this, and shook his head; yet he knew that it was
true.
In August William closed the Beacon street house and went to the
Rangeley Lakes on a camping trip. He told himself that he would not
go had it not been for a promise given to an old college friend months
before. True, he had been anticipating this trip all winter; but it
occurred to him now that it would be much more interesting to go to
Hampden Falls and see Billy. He had been to the Rangeley Lakes, and he
had not been to Hampden Falls; besides, there would be Ned Harding and
those queer old maids with their shaded house and socketed chairs to
see. In short, to William, at the moment, there seemed no place quite
so absorbingly interesting as was Hampden Falls. But he went to the
Rangeley Lakes.
In September Cyril came back from Europe, and Bertram from the
Adirondacks where he had been spending the month of August. William
already had arrived, and with Pete and Dong Ling had opened the house.
"Where's Billy? Isn't Billy here?" demanded Bertram.
"No. She isn't back yet," replied William.
"You don't mean to say she's stayed up there all summer!" exclaimed
Cyril.
"Why, yes, I--I suppose so," hesitated William. "You see, I haven't
heard but once for a month. I've been down in Maine, you know."
William wrote to Billy that night.
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