"
"Why--Bertram!"
"Yes, I know. I've no business to say that, of course," sighed the man;
"but, Billy, that's why I came out--because I must speak to you this
once. Won't you come and sit down, please?" he implored despairingly.
"Why, Bertram," murmured Billy again, faintly, as she turned toward the
vine-shaded corner and sat down. Her eyes were startled. A swift color
had come to her cheeks.
"Billy," began the man, in a sternly controlled voice, "please let me
speak this once, and don't try to stop me. You may think, for a moment,
that it's disloyal to William if you listen; but it isn't. There's this
much due to me--that you let me speak now. Billy, I can't stand it.
I've tried, but it's no use. I've got to go away, and it's right that I
should. I'm not the only one that thinks so, either. Marie does, too."
"MARIE!"
"Yes. I talked it all over with her. She's known for a long time how
it's been with me; how I cared--for you."
"Marie! You've told Marie that?" gasped Billy.
"Yes. Surely you don't mind Marie's knowing," went on Bertram,
dejectedly. "And she's been so good to me, and tried to--help me."
Bertram was not looking at Billy now. If he had been he would have seen
the incredulous joy come into her face. His eyes were moodily fixed on
the floor.
"And so, Billy, I've come to tell you.
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