with　the　whole　house　to　ourselves。''　　Nor；　turn
  which　way　he　would；　could　he　find　anything　to
  comfort　him。　　Simply　because　he　was　so　fearfully
  looking　for　it；　he　found　itthe　thing　that　had
  for　its　theme　the　wretchedness　that　might　be
  expected　from　the　presence　of　a　third　person　in　the
  new　home。
  Poor　William！　　Everywhere　he　met　itthe
  hint；　the　word；　the　story；　the　song；　even；　and
  always　it　added　its　mite　to　the　woeful　whole。
  Even　the　hoariest　of　mother…in…law　jokes　had　its
  sting　for　him；　and；　to　make　his　cup　quite　full；　he
  chanced　to　remember　one　day　what　Marie　had
  said　when　he　had　suggested　that　she　and　Cyril
  come　to　the　Strata　to　live：　　‘‘No；　I　think　young
  folks　should　begin　by　themselves。''
  Unhappy；　indeed；　were　these　days　for　William。
  Like　a　lost　spirit　he　wandered　from　room
  to　room；　touching　this；　fingering　that。　　For　long
  minutes　he　would　stand　before　some　picture；　or
  some　treasured　bit　of　old　mahogany；　as　if　to
  stamp　indelibly　upon　his　mind　a　thing　that　was
  soon　to　be　no　more。　　At　other　times；　like　a　man
  without　a　home；　he　would　go　out　into　the　Common
  or　the　Public　Garden　and　sit　for　hours　on
  some　benchthinking。
  All　this　could　have　but　one　ending；　of　course。
  Before　the　middle　of　August　William　summoned
  Pete　to　his　rooms。
  ‘‘Oh；　Pete；　I'm　going　to　move　next　week；''
  he　began　nonchalantly。　　His　voice　sounded　as　if
  moving　were　a　pleasurable　circumstance　that
  occurred　in　his　life　regularly　once　a　month。　　‘‘I'd
  like　you　to　begin　to　pack　up　these　things；　please；
  to…morrow。''
  The　old　servant's　mouth　fell　open。
  ‘‘You're　goin'　toto　what；　sir？''　he　stammered。
  ‘‘Move_move_；　I　said。''　　William　spoke　with
  unusual　harshness。
  Pete　wet　his　lips。
  ‘‘You　mean　you've　sold　the　old　place；　sir？
  that　wewe　ain't　goin'　to　live　here　no　longer？''
  ‘‘Sold？　　Of　course　not！　　_I'm_　going　to　move
  away；　not　you。''
  If　Pete　could　have　known　what　caused　the
  sharpness　in　his　master's　voice；　he　would　not
  have　been　so　grievedor；　rather；　he　would　have
  been　grieved　for　a　different　reason。　　As　it　was　he
  could　only　falter　miserably：
  ‘‘_You_　are　goin'　to　move　away　from　here！''
  ‘‘Yes；　yes；　man！　　Why；　Pete；　what　ails　you？
  One　would　think　a　body　never　moved　before。''
  ‘‘They　didn'tnot　you；　sir。''
  William　turned　abruptly；　so　that　his　face　could
  not　be　seen。　　With　stern　deliberation　he　picked
  up　an　elaborately　decorated　teapot；　but　the
  valuable　bit　of　Lowestoft　shook　so　in　his　hand
  that　he　set　it　down　at　once。　　It　clicked　sharply
  against　its　neighbor；　betraying　his　nervous　hand。
  Pete　stirred。
  ‘‘But；　Mr。　William；''　he　stammered　thickly；
  ‘‘how　are　youwhat'll　you　do　without　　There
  doesn't　nobody　but　me　know　so　well　about　your
  tea；　and　the　two　lumps　in　your　coffee；　and
  there's　your　flannels　that　you　never　put　on　till　I
  get　'em　out；　and　the　woolen　socks　that　you'd
  wear　all　summer　if　I　didn't　hide　'em。　　And
  and　who's　goin'　to　take　care　of　these？''　he
  finished；　with　a　glance　that　encompassed　the
  overflowing　cabinets　and　shelves　of　curios　all　about
  him。
  His　master　smiled　sadly。　　An　affection　that　had
  its　inception　in　his　boyhood　days　shone　in　his
  eyes。　　The　hand　in　which　the　Lowestoft　had
  shaken　rested　now　heavily　on　an　old　man's　bent
  shouldera　shoulder　that　straightened　itself　in
  unconscious　loyalty　under　the　touch。
  ‘‘Pete；　you　have　spoiled　me；　and　no　mistake。
  I　don't　expect　to　find　another　like　you。　　But
  maybe　if　I　wear　the　woolen　socks　too　late　you'll
  come　and　hunt　up　the　others　for　me。　　Eh？''
  And；　with　a　smile　that　was　meant　to　be　quizzical；
  William　turned　and　began　to　shift　the　teapots
  about　again。
  ‘‘But；　Mr。　William；　whythat　is；　what　will
  Mr。　Bertram　and　Miss　Billy　dowithout　you？''
  ventured　the　old　man。
  There　was　a　sudden　tinkling　crash。　　On　the
  floor　lay　the　fragments　of　a　silver…luster　teapot。
  The　servant　exclaimed　aloud　in　dismay；　but
  his　master　did　not　even　glance　toward　his　once
  treasured　possession　on　the　floor。
  ‘‘Nonsense；　Pete！''　he　was　saying　in　a
  particularly　cheery　voice。　　‘‘Have　you　lived　all　these
  years　and　not　found　out　that　newly…married
  folks　don't　_need_　any　one　else　around？　　Come；
  do　you　suppose　we　could　begin　to　pack　these
  teapots　to…night？''　he　added；　a　little　feverishly。
  ‘‘Aren't　there　some　boxes　down　cellar？''
  ‘‘I'll　see；　sir；''　said　Pete；　respectfully；　but　the
  expression　on　his　face　as　he　turned　away　showed
  that　he　was　not　thinking　of　teapotsnor　of
  boxes　in　which　to　pack　them。
  CHAPTER　III
  BILLY　SPEAKS　HER　MIND
  Mr。　and　Mrs。　Bertram　Henshaw　were　expected
  home　the　first　of　September。　　By　the　thirty…first
  of　August　the　old　Beacon　Street　homestead　facing
  the　Public　Garden　was　in　spick…and…span　order；
  with　Dong　Ling　in　the　basement　hovering　over　a
  well…stocked　larder；　and　Pete　searching　the　rest
  of　the　house　for　a　chair　awry；　or　a　bit　of　dust
  undiscovered。
  Twice　before　had　the　Strataas　Bertram
  long　ago　dubbed　the　home　of　his　boyhood
  been　prepared　for　the　coming　of　Billy；　William's
  namesake：　once；　when　it　had　been　decorated
  with　guns　and　fishing…rods　to　welcome　the　‘‘boy''
  who　turned　out　to　be　a　girl；　and　again　when
  with　pink　roses　and　sewing…baskets　the　three
  brothers　got　joyously　ready　for　a　feminine　Billy
  who　did　not　even　come　at　all。
  The　house　had　been　very　different　then。　　It
  had　been；　indeed；　a　‘‘strata；''　with　its　distinctive
  layers　of　fads　and　pursuits　as　represented　by
  Bertram　and　his　painting　on　one　floor；　William
  and　his　curios　on　another；　and　Cyril　with　his
  music　on　a　third。　　Cyril　was　gone　now。　　Only
  Pete　and　his　humble　belongings　occupied　the　top
  floor。　　The　floor　below；　too；　was　silent　now；　and
  almost　empty　save　for　a　rug　or　two；　and　a　few
  pieces　of　heavy　furniture　that　William　had　not
  cared　to　take　with　him　to　his　new　quarters　on
  top　of　Beacon　Hill。　　Below　this；　however；　came
  Billy's　old　rooms；　and　on　these　Pete　had　lavished
  all　his　skill　and　devotion。
  Freshly　laundered　curtains　were　at　the　windows；
  dustless　rugs　were　on　the　floor。　　The　old
  work…basket　had　been　brought　down　from　the
  top…floor　storeroom；　and　the　long…closed　piano
  stood　invitingly　open。　　In　a　conspicuous　place；
  also；　sat　the　little　green　god；　upon　whose
  exquisitely　carved　shoulders　was　supposed　to　rest　the
  ‘‘heap　plenty　velly　good　luckee''　of　Dong　Ling's
  prophecy。
  On　the　first　floor　Bertram's　old　rooms　and　the
  drawing…room　came　in　for　their　share　of　the
  general　overhauling。　　Even　Spunkie　did　not　escape；
  but　had　to　submit　to　the　ignominy　of　a
  bath。　　And　then　dawned　fair　and　clear　the　first
  day　of　September；　bringing　at　five　o'clock　the
  bride　and　groom。
  Respectfully　lined　up　in　the　hall　to　meet　them
  were　Pete　and　Dong　Ling：　　Pete　with　his　wrinkled
  old　face　alight　with　joy　and　excitement；　Dong
  Ling　grinning　and　kotowing；　and　chanting　in　a
  high…pitched　treble：
  ‘‘Miss　Billee；　Miss　Billeeplenty　much　welcome；
  Miss　Billee！''
  ‘‘Yes；　welcome　home；　Mrs。　_Henshaw！_''　bowed
  Bertram；　turning　at　the　door；　with　an　elaborate
  flourish　that　did　not　in　the　least　hide　his　tender
  pride　in　his　new　wife。
  Billy　laughed　and　colored　a　pretty　pink。
  ‘‘Thank　youall　of　you；''　she　cried　a　little
  unsteadily。　　‘‘And　how　good；　good　everything
  does　look　to　me！　　Why；　where's　Uncle　William？''
  she　broke　off；　casting　hurriedly　anxious　eyes
  about　her。
  ‘‘Well；　I　should　say　so；''　echoed　Bertram。
  ‘‘Where　is　he；　Pete？　　He　isn't　sick；　is　he？''
  A　quick　change　crossed　the　old　servant's　face。
  He　shook　his　head　dumbly。
  Billy　gave　a　gleeful　laugh。
  ‘‘I　knowhe's　asleep！''　she　caroled；　skipping
  to　the　bottom　of　the　stairway　and　looking　up
  ‘‘Ho；　Uncle　William！　　Better　wake　up；　sir。　　The
  folks　have　come！''
  Pete　cleared　his　throat。
  ‘‘Mr。　William　isn't　here；　Missma'am；''　he
  corrected　miserably。
  Billy　smiled；　but　she　frowned；　too。
  ‘‘Not　here！　Well；　　I　like　that；''　she　pouted；
  ‘‘and　when　I've　brought　him　the　most　beautiful
  pair　of　mirror　knobs　he　ever　saw；　and　all　the
  way　in　my　bag；　too；　so　I　could　give　them　to　him
  the　very　first　thing；''　she　added；　darting　over　to
  the　small　bag　she　had　brought　in　with　her。　　‘‘I'm
  glad　I　did；　too；　for　our　trunks　didn't　come；''　she
  continued　laughingly。　　‘‘Still；　if　he　isn't　here　to
  receive　them　　There；　Pete；　aren't　they　beautiful？''
  she　cried；　carefully　taking　from　their　wrappings
  two　exquisitely　decorated　porcelain　discs
  mounted　on　two　long　spikes。　　‘‘They're　Batterseas
  the　real　article。　　I　know　enough　for
  that；　and　they're　finer　than　anything　he's　got。
  Won't　he　be　pleased？''
  ‘‘Yes；　Missma'am；　I　mean；''　stammered
  the　old　man。
  ‘‘These　new　titles　come　hard；　don't　they；
  Pete？''　laughed　Bertram。
  Pete　smiled　faintly。
  ‘‘Never　mind；　Pete；''　soothed　his　new　mistress。
  ‘‘You　shall　call　me　‘Miss　Billy'　all　your　l