At no name had Bertram detected so
much as the flicker of an eyelid; and with a glance half-admiring,
half-chagrined, he fell back into his chair.
"I'll give it up. You've won," he acknowledged. "But, Billy,"--his
manner changed suddenly--"I wonder if you know just what a hole you left
in the Strata when you went away."
"But I couldn't have--in the whole Strata," objected Billy. "I occupied
only one stratum, and a stratum doesn't go up and down, you know, only
across; and mine was the second floor."
Bertram gave a slow shake of his head.
"I know; but yours was a freak formation," he maintained gravely. "It
DID go up and down. Honestly, Billy, we did care--lots. Will and I were
inconsolable, and even Cyril played dirges for a week."
"Did he?" gurgled Billy, with sudden joyousness. "I'm so glad!"
"Thank you," murmured Bertram, disapprovingly. "We hadn't considered it
a subject for exultation."
"What? Oh, I didn't mean that! That is--" she stopped helplessly.
"Oh, never mind about trying to explain," interposed Bertram. "I fancy
the remedy would be worse than the disease, in this case."
"Nonsense! I only meant that I like to be missed--sometimes," retorted
Billy, a little nettled.
"And you rejoice then to have me mope, Cyril play dirges, and Will
wander mournfully about the house with Spunkie in his arms! You should
have seen William.
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