For a moment she considered the matter vaguely; then she turned her
attention to something else. She was the more ready to do this because
she believed that she had said enough for the present: it was well to
sow seeds, but it was also well to let them have a chance to grow, she
told herself.
Mrs. Hartwell's next move was to speak to Billy, and she was careful to
do this at once, so that she might pave the way for William.
She began her conversation with an ingratiating smile and the words:
"Well, Billy, I've been doing a little detective work on my own
account."
"Detective work?"
"Yes; about William. You know I told you the other day how troubled and
anxious he looked to me. Well, I've found out what's the matter."
"What is it?"
"Yourself."
"Myself! Why, Mrs. Hartwell, what can you mean?"
The elder lady smiled significantly.
"Oh, it's merely another case, my dear, of 'faint heart never won fair
lady.' I've been helping on the faint heart; that's all."
"But I don't understand."
"No? I can't believe you quite mean that, my dear. Surely you must know
how earnestly my brother William is longing for you to go back and live
with him."
Like William, Billy flushed scarlet.
"Mrs. Hartwell, certainly no one could know better than YOURSELF why
that is quite impossible," she frowned.
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