"Oh, where have you been, Billy boy, Billy boy? Oh, where have you been, charming Billy?"
Somewhere behind him a daring young voice was singing. Billy turned with a real start, and when he saw her coming gayly down a little, brush-hidden path and knew that she was alone, the heart of him turned a complete somersault--from the feel of it.
"My long friend, Dilly, was busy, and so I--I went to look after my horse," he explained, his mind somewhat in a jumble. How came she to be there, and why did she sing those lines? How did she know that was his song, or--did she really care at all? And where was the Pilgrim?
"Mr. Walland and I tried the swing, but I don't like it; it made me horribly dizzy," she said, coming up to him. "Then I went to find Mama Joy--"
"Who?" Billy had by that time recovered his wits enough to know just exactly what she said.
"Mama Joy--my stepmother. I call her that. You see, father wants me to call her mama--he really wanted it mother, but I couldn't--and she's so young to have me for a daughter, so she wants me to call her Joy; that's her name. So I call her both and please them both, I hope. Did you ever study diplomacy, Mr. Boyle?"
"I never did, but I'm going to start right in," Billy told her, and half meant it.
"A thorough understanding of the subject is indispensable--when you have a stepmother--a young stepmother. You've met her, haven't you?"
"No," said Billy. He did not want to talk about her stepmother, but he hated to tell her so. "Er--yes, I believe I did see her once, come to think of it," he added honestly when memory prompted him.
Miss Bridger laughed, stopped, and laughed again. "How Mama Joy would hate you if she knew that!" she exclaimed relishfully.
"Why?"
"Oh, you wait! If ever I tell her that you--that anybody ever met her and then forgot! Why, she knows the color of your hair and eyes, and she knows the pattern of that horsehair hat-band and the size of your boots--she admires a man whose feet haven't two or three inches for every foot of his height--she says you wear fives, and you don't lack much of being six feet tall, and--"
"Oh, for Heaven's sake!" protested Billy, very red and uncomfortable. "What have I done to yuh that you throw it into me like that? My hands are up--and they'll stay up if you'll only quit it."