Phyllis

"Billy, Billy!" I call, eagerly, and at the top of my healthy lungs; but there is no reply. "Where can that boy be?" "Billy, Billy!" I shout again, more lustily this time, and with my neck craned half-way down the kitchen-stair-case, but with a like result. There is a sudden movement on the upper landing, and Dora, appearing above, waves her hand frantically towards me to insure attention, while she murmurs, "Hush! Hush!" with hurried emphasis. I look up, and see she is robed in her best French muslin, the faint blue and white of which contrasts so favorably with her delicate skin.