“a girl who has so many wilful ways

she would have caused job’s patience to forsake him,

yet is so rich in all that's girlhood’s praise,

did job himself upon her goodness gaze,

a little better she would surely make him.”

m

iss billy was an early riser. she opened her eyes to the sunshine and pure morning air as naturally as a flower. so it came about that at six o'clock of a may morning she was skipping downstairs before any other member of the family had stirred, with a quick springing step that was peculiarly her own. miss billy's sprightly locomotion was a constant source of amusement to her family, and of mortification-9- to miss billy herself. "it is my misfortune, not my fault," she was wont to say when her brother theodore described her gait as "galumphing," and her sister beatrice pleaded with her to study physical culture; "and it's like struggling against fate to attempt to walk with discretion. i suppose it is merely an 'evening-up' of things, and that providence gave it to me to offset my lovely disposition."

but upon this spring morning miss billy's unfortunate step did not seem to be weighing upon her mind. the glow and thrill of the golden day opening before her sent the warm blood coursing quickly through her veins, and the world seemed made for youth and beauty and happiness. miss billy sang softly to herself as she opened the side door and stepped out into the garden.

"the garden" was a small shady spot on the north side of the tall city house. it was not a promising place for flowers, but miss billy's love for growing things was great, and-10- by dint of much urging and encouragement on her part, a few spring flowers eked out a precarious existence in the barren soil. above the flower plot was an open bedroom window. miss billy's eyes twinkled wickedly, and her soft song changed into the whistled notes of a schoolboy's call. there was a sound as of two bare feet coming down with a thud in the room above her, and in a moment a tall form in gay scarlet pajamas, with a towsled head atop, appeared at the window.

"that you, tom?" whispered a sleepy voice.

miss billy looked up from the flowers. the violets themselves were not more demure than her own face.

"oh, hello, ted!" she said; "tom's not here."

"well, who is?"

"no one but me."

"but i heard some one whistle."

"that was me too," said miss billy frankly and ungrammatically.

-11-

"well, i must say that your joke—i suppose you intended it for a joke—is extremely crude," replied her brother crossly.

"you said last night that i couldn't get you out of bed," jeered miss billy. "beside, i wanted you to see the sun rise. i have seen two myself, this morning."

"well you may now have the pleasure of seeing one go back to bed," said theodore. he left the window abruptly, and miss billy heard him thump his pillow impatiently as she turned again to the garden.

"ted never has much sense of humour at six o'clock in the morning," she said, passing her loving hands under the tender green leaves. "six blossoms! these are the most modest violets i ever saw in my life. they're afraid to show their heads above the ground. at this rate it won't take me long to prepare my floral creation for the breakfast table."

there was still no sign of life about the house when she came back with the flowers, and miss billy wondered, as she put the purple-12- blossoms in a clear green glass bowl, what she should do next.

"i might practise half an hour," she said to herself, looking in at the piano as she stood in the hall door,—

“‘practicing’s good for a good little girl,

it makes her nose straight and it makes her hair curl,’

"—but my hair is too curly now, and if my nose was straight, people would expect more of me. beside, i hate to waste this lovely morning on scaly exercises. i believe i'll write a letter to margaret. i feel in the right mood to talk to her."

the same peculiar quick-step carried miss billy to her desk, where, dipping a battered-looking pen into the ink, she began:—

"1902 ashurst place.

"dearly beloved:

"i suppose you're just going to bed over in cologne, with your hair done up in those funny little curl papers of yours. or don't they wear curl papers in 'furrin' countries?-13- what kind of a place is cologne, anyway? do they make lundborg's extract there, and are the exports 'grain, grapes and beet sugar,' as the geography used to say?

"over here in america i am waiting for maggie to arise and prepare our frugal repast, which, from sundry soaked articles i saw last night, i suspect will mainly consist of fish-balls. maggie feels that she has not lived in vain when she succeeds in getting theodore to refuse codfish-balls. it is the only article of food that he does not fall upon with fork and glee.

"speaking of balls, i went to one last night, only to look on, however. beatrice's dancing class gave one of their monthly parties, and i was one of the smaller fry (notice the connection between fry and codfish-balls) whom they deigned to invite. those pale-drab blanchard girls were conducting the services—(it's well that father doesn't inspect my correspondence)—so it's a wonder that i 'got in' at all, for they detest me. i might add that the tender sentiment is entirely reciprocated on my part! i wore my old grey crêpe, and looked superbly magnificent, as of course you know, peggy dear. tom furnis, who was there, also occupying a modest and retiring-14- seat in the rear, mentioned to me during the evening that as soon as you came home we would have a dancing class of our own. so you see how everything hangs on your return.

"nothing has happened at 'miss peabody's select school for young ladies' since you left except that i have received numerous invitations to select little functions in the office, and a choice assortment of demerit marks, and carried home the following report last month:

'miss lee's immediate improvement in deportment is earnestly desired by

'her instructor and sincere friend,

'loutilda amesbury peabody.'

"i did rather dread to take it home, for my report last month was not exactly suggestive of propriety and discretion, and i hate to have my people disappointed in me. but when i showed it to father he said, 'some improvement this month, i see, little daughter.' wasn't that just like him?

"myrtle blanchard has organised a new school club. it is composed of the select six, who devote themselves to french conversation and marshmallows once a week, and call themselves the salon. not to be outdone, madge freer and i have started a rival organisation-15- for ping-pong and fun. we call ourselves the saloon. we'll have to change the name, though, as soon as miss loutilda discovers its existence. can't you imagine her horror!

"your description of your paris gowns did not make me at all envious, my dear. for miss edwards has been making me three new dresses and revising several old editions. i have a new brown suit, a scarlet foulard, and a fearful and wonderful creation of purple lawn embroidered with pale yellow celery leaves, which i shall wear to every church supper this year. and i shall come to the station to meet you next september arrayed like solomon in all his glory, in all three of the gowns, in order that you may be properly impressed, and not outshine me in splendour.

"i am afraid you won't find, in this frivolous and dressy letter, the things you most want to know. as usual, my pen has run to nonsense. but if you were looking for food for reflection and nourishment of the soul, you would have come to father for it, instead of me. sometimes, peggy dear, i am ashamed of my aimless, careless existence of eating, sleeping and skylarking, as theodore would say. there are moments of temporary aberration in my life when i wish i could help-16- some one else. if i were like you, now, who carry sweetness and serenity with you, i wouldn't mourn, but alas, i am only

"your unregenerate but loyal friend,

"miss billy.

"p.s.

"my suspicions about the codfish were well founded. a strong and influential odour of breakfast has pushed the door open for me, and i know it is time for me to descend into the lower regions. good-by, dear."

miss billy laid down her pen with a sigh of relief, and wiped her ink-stained fingers. she had just lighted her little candle and produced a stick of wax to seal the letter, when a deafening noise filled the hall below. at the foot of the stairs stood her brother theodore, armed with a chinese gong, upon which he was performing with great vigour. his boyish tenor rang out clearly:

"arise, arise, ye maiden fair,

golden eyes and azure hair,

hear your loved one's plaintive calls,

come to me and codfish-balls.

-17-

"breakfast waits, miss billy. did you go back to bed again?"

the family had assembled at breakfast when the younger daughter entered the dining room, smiling over theodore's improvised poetry. "mother looks more sober than usual," she thought, as she drew the sweet face to her own.

"morning, motherie."

"good-morning, little daughter. you left your footprints behind you. the violets are lovely."

there was an unsealed letter at miss billy's plate, and similar envelopes for beatrice and theodore. miss billy opened hers first. it ran:

"you are requested to be present at a family meeting to be held in the study this morning at eight o'clock. important matters to be discussed. by order of

"father."

the letters excited no comment. they were an every-day occurrence in the lee fam-18-ily. if theodore's unruly tongue caused mischief, or his love of a joke was carried too far, a delicate reminder at his plate was sure to call attention to the fact. if beatrice stopped for a moment to exchange compliments with her old enemy, personal vanity, or did she pursue an uneven tenor of fault-finding for a time, a letter was the means of bringing her to order. but upon miss billy,—energetic, wideawake miss billy,—who was always doing things, and doing them hard, the missives descended like flocks of white doves. these letters did not all contain censure. some of them were so full of praise as to make their owner blush with an embarrassment of happiness, but one could never be sure beforehand of the contents.

theodore was already in the study when miss billy entered. he was stretched out on the floor with two sofa pillows under his head and four under his feet.

"something's up," he remarked sagely.

"yes," assented miss billy, "and that-19- something had better come down. take the pillows from under your feet, ted."

"well, i hope the bank hasn't gone busted, or father's colt been killed, or anything happened to our government bonds, or maggie given warning, or beatrice plighted her troth to a peanut man. billy, what a savage you are! what are pillows for, i'd like to know. i should think you'd be afraid to treat me as you do. some day the worm will turn, and when a belted earl comes to seek your hand i'll expose your tyranny."

"theodore," said miss billy, standing very tall and straight, and with a serious expression on her usually merry face,—"stop joking and listen. something is up, really. i've been waiting for it to come out for a month. of course i don't know exactly what it is, but i have my suspicions, and every time i have looked at mother's sober face i have felt guilty to be happy. now ted, if what i think turns out to be true, i have some plans to propose, and you must stand by me in them."

-20-

"what do you mean?" asked theodore, with a boy's disgust for mystery. "you're talking in parables, miss billy."

"i mean that i'm sure father's lost some money," answered his sister hurriedly. "i haven't time to explain now; the whole family will be here in a minute. but when the rest come in, i want you to say exactly what i say, and uphold me in every way."

"well, i like that," gasped theodore, raising himself on one elbow. "say exactly what you say! what do you intend to say, and why should i play follow-my-leader? no ma'am, i sign no paper before reading it."

"but you must," insisted miss billy hurriedly. "you'll understand why later. you've got to pull with me. i know how beatrice will act, and i'll need an ally the minute her tears begin to flow. i depend upon you to stand by me, as you always do. come ted, promise. quick, they're coming."

"your blandishments have the usual telling effect," groaned theodore. "i promise,—i-21- suppose i've got to. but you're responsible for all the evil that may come from my yielding to temptation." he collapsed among the pillows, and had just succeeded in covering his tall form with a slumber robe when the rest of the family entered.