Part 39 (1/2)

All this Billy thought upon as he strode forward whistling comfortably, and his chest swelling proudly.

It was one thing to whistle on the highway of St. Ange, and quite another to whistle in the wilds of the North Solitude.

Billy was full of creature comfort, and the scattered lights of the houses gave cheer and a feeling of security to the boy.

The Black Cat's twinkling eyes had no charm for Billy. They were never to have a charm for him; but as he neared the bungalow his whistle grew intermittent and his legs had an inclination in one direction while his heart sternly bade him follow another. Then, without really being aware of his weakness, Billy found himself knocking on the bungalow door, and his heart thumped wildly beneath the old vest of his father's which he wore closely b.u.t.toned under the coat he had painfully outgrown.

In response to his knock, the wide, hospitable door was flung open, and Billy faced a stranger who quite unnerved him, by the direct and pointed question:

”Why, good evening, little boy; what do _you_ want?”

The glow from within set Billy's senses in a mad whirl, but the ”little boy” was like a dash of cold water to his pride and egotism.

”I--I--want--her!” Poor Billy was in a lost state.

”It is--I do believe it is my delectable Billy.”

It was _her_ voice, and it floated down to the boy at the gate of Paradise, from the top of a step-ladder. Halfway up the ladder Jock Filmer stood with his hands full of greens and his eyes full of laughter.

”Billy, come up and be welcomed. Get down Jock, you've had your turn.”

His turn! A fierce hate rose in Billy's heart; but the stranger closed the door behind him; Aunt Sally and the minister were saying kind things to him, and informing him that the angel who had admitted him was Mrs.

Dale, the Fairy of Christmas, and a great admirer of little boys.

Little boys! Were they bent on insulting him?

Jock descended with that laugh of his that always disturbed Billy's preconceived ideas. Then Billy was facing _Her_ as she bent to meet him halfway.

The glad smile pa.s.sed slowly from Constance Drew's face. The others, below, were talking and forgetting the two upon the ladder.

”Why--Billy--have you--been sick?”

”No, ma'am.”

”Did they let you come home for Christmas?”

”No, ma'am. I jest c.u.m.”

Constance looked long at him, and at last the laugh was gone even from her dear eyes.

”Billy,” she said softly, laying her hands on his shoulders, ”you've been keeping your word to me, about swearing, and--and all the rest?”

”Yes'm.”

”It's been hard, too, dear, I know; but it has made you into something--better.” And then with a s.h.i.+ning look on her face she bent and kissed him.

The heat rushed all over Billy's body, following a cold perspiration.

His mouth twitched, and a maddening feeling of tears rose to his smarting eyes.

”I'm--going--over--to--Hillcrest school!” He whispered feebly, ”I'm going--to get--learnin', an' things.”