"You know he doesn't." Billy laughed gleefully.

She had not been slow to note the color in her friend's face, or to ascribe to it the one meaning she wished to ascribe to it.

So sure, indeed, was she now that her fears had been groundless, that she flung caution to the winds.
"Ho! My dear Alice, you can't expect us all to be blind," she teased.
"Besides, we all think it's such a lovely arrangement that we're just glad to see it.

He's such a fine fellow, and we like him so much! We couldn't ask for a better husband for you than Mr.Arkwright, and--" From sheer amazement at the sudden white horror in Alice Greggory's face, Billy stopped short.

"Why, Alice!" she faltered then.
With a visible effort Alice forced her trembling lips to speak.
"My husband--_Mr.Arkwright!_ Why, Billy, you couldn't have seen--you haven't seen--there's nothing you _could_ see! He isn't--he wasn't--he can't be! We--we're nothing but friends, Billy, just good friends!" Billy, though dismayed, was still not quite convinced.
"Friends! Nonsense! When--" But Alice interrupted feverishly.