“Of course we're glad!” cried Billy. “And didn't it come just in time? This is the last week of opera, anyway, you know.”
“But it says he sang before--on a Saturday night,” declared Aunt Hannah, going back to the paper in her hand. “Now wouldn't you have thought we'd have heard of it, or read of it? And wouldn't you have thought he'd have told us?”
“Oh, well, maybe he didn't happen to see us so he could tell us,” returned Billy with elaborate carelessness.
“I know it; but it's so funny he _hasn't_ seen us,” contended Aunt Hannah, frowning. “You know how much he used to be here.”
Billy colored, and hurried into the fray.
“Oh, but he must have been so busy, with all this, you know. And of course we didn't see it in the paper--because we didn't have any paper at that time, probably. Oh, yes, that's my fault, I know,” she laughed; “and I was silly, I'll own. But we'll make up for it now. We'll go, of course, I wish it had been on our regular season-ticket night, but I fancy we can get seats somewhere; and I'm going to ask Alice Greggory and her mother, too. I'll go down there this morning to tell them, and to get the tickets. I've got it all planned.”
Billy had, indeed, “got it all planned.” She had been longing for something that would take her away from the house--and if possible away from herself. This would do the one easily, and might help on the other. She rose at once.
“But, my dear,” frowned Aunt Hannah, anxiously, “I don't believe I can go to-night--though I'd love to, dearly.”
“I'm tired and half sick with a headache this morning. I didn't sleep, and I've taken cold somewhere,” sighed the lady, pulling the top shawl a little higher about her throat.
Billy shook her head--but she did not meet Aunt Hannah's eyes.
“Oh, no. I sha'n't even ask him. He said last night he had a banquet on for to-night--one of his art clubs, I believe.” Billy's voice was casualness itself.
“But you'll have the Greggorys--that is, Mrs. Greggory _can_ go, can't she?” inquired Aunt Hannah.
“Oh, yes; I'm sure she can,” nodded Billy. “You know she went to the operetta, and this is just the same--only bigger.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” murmured Aunt Hannah.
“Dear me! How can she get about so on those two wretched little sticks? She's a perfect marvel to me.”