BILLY, THE MYTH
To all appearances it came about very naturally that Billy did not return to America for some time. During the summer she wrote occasionally to William, and gave glowing accounts of their travels. Then in September came the letter telling him that they had concluded to stay through the winter in Paris. Billy wrote that she had decided not to go to college. She would take up some studies there in Paris, she said, but she would devote herself more particularly to her music.
When the next summer came there was still something other than America to claim her attention: the Calderwells had invited her to cruise with them for three months. Their yacht was a little floating palace of delight, Billy declared, not to mention the charm of the unknown lands and waters that she and Aunt Hannah would see.
Of all this Billy wrote to William--at occasional intervals--but she did not come home. Even when the next autumn came, there was still Paris to detain her for another long winter of study.
In the Henshaw house on Beacon Street, William mourned not a little as each recurring season brought no Billy.
"The idea! It's just as if one didn't have a namesake!" he fumed.
"Well, did you have one?" Bertram demanded one day. "Really, Will, I'm beginning to think she's a myth. Long years ago, from the first of April till June we did have two frolicsome sprites here that announced themselves as 'Billy' and 'Spunk,' I'll own. And a year later, by ways devious and secret, we three managed to see the one called 'Billy' off on a great steamship. Since then, what? Aword--a message--a scrap of paper. Billy's a myth, I say!"William sighed.
"Sometimes I don't know but you are right," he admitted. "Why, it'll be three years next June since Billy was here. She must be nearly twenty-one--and we know almost nothing about her.""That's so. I wonder--" Bertram paused, and laughed a little, "Iwonder if NOW she'd play guardian angel to me through the streets of Boston."William threw a keen glance into his brother's face.
"I don't believe it would be quite necessary, NOW, Bert," he said quietly.
The other flushed a little, but his eyes softened.
"Maybe not, Will; still--one can always find some use for--a guardian angel, you know," he finished, almost under his breath.
To Cyril Bertram had occasionally spoken, during the last two years, of their first suspicions concerning Billy's absence. They speculated vaguely, too, as to why she had gone, and if she would ever come back; and they wondered if anything could have wounded her and sent her away. To William they said nothing of all this, however; though they agreed that they would have asked Kate for her opinion, had she been there. But Kate was not there. As it chanced, a good business opportunity had called Kate's husband to a Western town very soon after Billy herself had gone to Hampden Falls; and since the family's removal to the West, Mrs. Hartwell had not once returned to Boston.
It was in April, three years since Billy's first appearance in the Beacon Street house, that Bertram met his friend, Hugh Calderwell, on the street one afternoon, and brought him home to dinner.
