A pink flush spread to her forehead,
and her tongue stumbled at first over her reply.
"Why, I--it seemed--you--why, I left to go to Hampden Falls, to be sure.
Don't you remember?" she finished gaily.
"Oh, yes, I remember THAT," conceded Bertram with disdainful emphasis.
"But why did you go to Hampden Falls?"
"Why, it--it was the only place to go--that is, I WANTED to go there,"
she corrected hastily. "Didn't Aunt Hannah tell you that I--I was
homesick to get back there?"
"Oh, yes, Aunt Hannah SAID that," observed the man; "but wasn't that
homesickness a little--sudden?"
Billy blushed pink again.
"Why, maybe; but--well, homesickness is always more or less sudden;
isn't it?" she parried.
Bertram laughed, but his eyes grew suddenly almost tender.
"See here, Billy, you can't bluff worth a cent," he declared. "You are
much too refreshingly frank for that. Something was the trouble. Now
what was it? Won't you tell me, please?"
Billy pouted. She hesitated and gazed anywhere but into the challenging
eyes before her. Then very suddenly she looked straight into them.
"Very well, there WAS a reason for my leaving," she confessed a little
breathlessly. "I--didn't want to--bother you any more--all of you."
"Bother us!"
"No. I found out. You couldn't paint; Mr. Cyril couldn't play or write;
and--and everything was different because I was there.
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