“Well, 'he' came, and 'she' conquered. I guess things were lively for a while, though. Oh, there was a kitten, too, I believe, 'Spunk,' who added to the gayety of nations.”
“But what did the Henshaws do?”
“Well, I wasn't there, of course; but Bertram says they spun around like tops gone mad for a time, but finally quieted down enough to summon a married sister for immediate propriety, and to establish Aunt Hannah for permanency the next day.”
“So that's how it happened! Well, by George!” cried Arkwright.
“Yes,” nodded the other. “So you see there are untold possibilities just in a name. Remember that. Just suppose you, as Mary Jane, should beg a home in a feminine household—say in Miss Billy's, for instance!”
“I'd like to,” retorted Arkwright, with sudden warmth.
Calderwell stared a little.
The other laughed shamefacedly.
“Oh, it's only that I happen to have a devouring curiosity to meet that special young lady. I sing her songs (you know she's written some dandies!), I've heard a lot about her, and I've seen her picture.” (He did not add that he had also purloined that same picture from his mother's bureau—the picture being a gift from Aunt Hannah.) “So you see I would, indeed, like to occupy a corner in the fair Miss Billy's household. I could write to Aunt Hannah and beg a home with her, you know; eh?”
“Of course! Why don't you—'Mary Jane'?” laughed Calderwell. “Billy'd take you all right. She's had a little Miss Hawthorn, a music teacher, there for months. She's always doing stunts of that sort. Belle writes me that she's had a dozen forlornites there all this last summer, two or three at a time-tired widows, lonesome old maids, and crippled kids—just to give them a royal good time. So you see she'd take you, without a doubt. Jove! what a pair you'd make: Miss Billy and Mr. Mary Jane! You'd drive the suffragettes into conniption fits—just by the sound of you!”
Arkwright laughed quietly; then he frowned.
“But how about it?”
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