"It
sha'n't ache--they sha'n't echo!"
The man leaned forward eagerly, unbelievingly, and caught the hands in
his own.
"Billy, do you mean it? Then you will--come?"
"Yes, yes! I didn't know--I didn't think. I never supposed it was like
that! Of course I'll come!" And in a moment she was sobbing in his arms.
"Billy!" breathed William rapturously, as he touched his lips to her
forehead. "My own little Billy!"
It was a few minutes later, when Billy was more calm, that William
started to speak of Bertram. For a moment he had been tempted not to
mention his brother, now that his own point had been won so surprisingly
quick; but the new softness in Billy's face had encouraged him, and he
did not like to let the occasion pass when a word from him might do so
much for Bertram. His lips parted, but no words came--Billy herself had
begun to speak.
"I'm sure I don't know why I'm crying," she stammered, dabbing her eyes
with her round moist ball of a handerchief. "I hope when I'm your wife
I'll learn to be more self-controlled. But you know I am young, and
you'll have to be patient."
As once before at something Billy said, the world to William went
suddenly mad. His head swam dizzily, and his throat tightened so that
he could scarcely breathe. By sheer force of will he kept his arm about
Billy's shoulder, and he prayed that she might not know how numb and
cold it had grown.
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