"Certainly—excuse me, Harrington!" Mr. Boland arose and went out.
Henry was groggy again—groggier than when Count Eckstrom confronted him alive in the music room. Did this mean that Eckstrom had proposed? That Billie had accepted him?
For a moment the girl's expression lent color to this theory—until with a bewitching toss of her wilful head it was made clear that she was only rebuking him for the presumption of his manner with the count.
"I—I'm sorry; but I had to go after that fellow," Harrington confessed with such sober honesty as must have mollified resentment.
For a moment Billie regarded Harrington steadily; then said with a far-away note in her voice: "Count Eckstrom is going away . . . forever." There was a look in her blue eyes as if she announced this for the young man's comfort.
"Miss Boland!" Henry exclaimed gratefully; but her manner held him off at the same moment that her features kindled with admiring interest in him and him alone.
"You are getting on well with father, aren't you?" she smiled with congratulation in her tone.
"I'd rather be sure I was getting on well with you," Henry countered daringly.
"And don't you feel that you are?"
"May I?" he challenged like a flash, but with voice lowered to a very tender significance as he advanced with outstretched hand.
But she held off again, this time with a laugh; yet there was admiration in it, cordial good feeling in it. Although her manner became elusive and bantering,
