But Billie stopped him, shaking her head decidedly.

“You’re a perfect angel, Teddy, to want to do it,” she said.  “But I really couldn’t let you.  Don’t you know I couldn’t?”

“I don’t see why,” grumbled Teddy, for after all he was only a boy, and just now a disappointed one.  “Laura says you’re set on replacing the thing—­”

“Of course I’ll have to,” Billie said.

“And if you are going around getting yourself sick with worry, what sort of good time do you think the rest of us are going to have?” he burst out indignantly, and for the life of her Billie could not help smiling.

For a moment Teddy seemed undecided whether to laugh or be angry, but ended, as he nearly always did, by laughing.

“But it really isn’t very funny,” he reminded her when they had finished.

“Goodness! you don’t have to tell me that,” said Billie ruefully.  “This is the first good laugh I’ve had since I broke the old thing.”

Teddy looked penitent.

“I’m sorry,” he said, adding, with a sudden smile:  “I’m glad to know I’m good for something, anyway.  I can still make you laugh.”

“You very foolish boy,” said Billie, patting his hand affectionately.  “As if that were all you were good for!”

“Well, if you feel that way, I don’t see why you won’t let me replace the statue,” said Teddy, still nursing his disappointment.  “Girls are funny, anyway.”

“We know it,” said Billie lightly.  “But we can’t help it.  Listen, Teddy,” and she leaned toward him confidentially.  “I still have one hope left.”

Then she told him about Uncle Bill and his fondness for her, and during the recital the boy brightened noticeably.

“Well, I hope the old boy comes up to the scratch,” he commented disrespectfully, adding hurriedly as Laura said good-bye to Nellie Bane and started toward them:  “And, Billie, if you change your mind about what I asked you let me know.  Promise?”

Billie promised, and a few minutes later said good-bye to the brother and sister and watched them down the street with a very warm feeling somewhere in the region of her heart.

“Isn’t it great to have friends?” she asked a robin that had perched itself on the edge of the porch and was looking at her knowingly.  “And isn’t Teddy the handsomest boy you ever saw?” to which the robin, knowing little rascal that he was, nodded not once but twice.

Chet came up on the porch a few minutes later and enticed Billie out for a game of tennis with him, hoping to get her mind off the broken statue.  But while she was too full of life and health not to enjoy the swift, swinging game that Chet gave her, the thought of “The Girl Reading a Book” stayed constantly in the back of her mind.

That night after dinner Billie broke the news to her father, and her heart sank as she saw the harassed look that came into his eyes.

“You say it cost a hundred dollars?” he queried, breaking a silence during which Billie had felt like a criminal awaiting sentence.  Now she nodded unhappily.