So that was it, I reflected gloomily. The frump now was to be worked off on me, and I was expected to stand for it. I was to be a sort of what-you-call-it offering on the altar of friendship. _That_ was the condition upon which he was patching up things!
Billings laughed suddenly. "But, oh, I tell you it would be hard on Francis--a regular knockout, by George!"
Devilish brutal for him to say so, I thought.
"Do you think so?" I questioned dismally. "Would Frances really care?"
"Oh, yes," he said lightly. "Soon get over it, though--puppy love, you know."
Puppy love, indeed! By Jove, how I hated Billings!
He went on: "Suppose you never heard anything of the professor and the pajamas?"
I had not, and I was devilish sick of pajamas, anyway.
"And say, Dicky, I don't remember that I ever thanked you properly, old man, for putting up my kid brother the other night. He says you treated him like a brick and that you and he got to be great pals. So much obliged, old chap, because he wanted to go running around, you know."
"Your brother?" I questioned, astonished, and I guess my face must have showed it, for Billings' eyes, first opening wide, narrowed, and his countenance began to gather an angry red. He stopped short.
I stared blankly. "Why, Billings--I didn't know--I didn't remember you had a brother. I never have seen him."
Billings' face swelled redder, and he struck his fist down with an oath. He looked angrily toward the house. Then he stepped hurriedly in advance of me.
"Excuse me, old chap, will you?" he said, his voice hardened. "Will see you at luncheon--make yourself at home, won't you?"
Make myself at home! I sneaked under the quiet shade in a convenient pergola, and, dropping upon a bench, gazed gloomily at the sunlight patches at my feet.
"Oh, _here_ you are, eh?" broke harshly upon me.
I looked up, startled from my mood. There, hands upon his hips and scowling, stood--the chauffeur!
I frowned, but the fellow just moved nearer.
"I guess mamma's baby don't feel so spry this morning!" he jeered. "Does its little heady-cums ache-ums--eh?"
I grunted rather wearily. "If it does, my good fellow, it's none of your business. Don't bother me!" I shifted the other way.
"Oh, isn't it?"--his tone quickened truculently--"Well, maybe I'll make it my business!" He jerked his arm at me, continuing sharply: "Look here, you glass-eyed monkey-jack, don't you get _flip_ with me this morning"--he laughed coarsely--"or I'll think you want some more! _Do_ you?"