"Darling, that pair of robins up in that big oak with four young, and you and I in this big building, also with four, know all about what you just said; and, and,--hmmm! It's almost midnight." And His Honor's mansion was soon dark; bathing in soft moonlight. XXXIX Practically all Branton Hills was talking about Councilman Simpkins; for Councilman Simpkins just didn't look natural; and Councilman Simpkins didn't _act_ natural. In fact, Councilman Simpkins was crawling out of his old cocoon; and, though an ugly, snarling _dowdy_ worm had lain for so long, shut up in that tight mass of wrappings around his brain, _now_ a gay, smiling moth was coming out; for Councilman Simpkins was "dolling up!" If Bill Gadsby was known as a "tailor-shop's outdoor part," Old Bill was not _a_ part. No, Old Bill _was_ that tailor shop--outdoor, indoor, or without a door. In fact, Councilman Simpkins now had "_it_," such as our films talk about so much today. But Simpkins' outfit was not flashy or "loud." Suits of good cloth, hats of stylish form, always a bright carnation "just south of his chin," boots always glossy, and a smart, springy walk, had all Broadway gasping as this Apollo-vision swung jauntily along. Nancy, happy, giggling Nancy, was "all of a grin" about this magic transformation; and, with that old, inborn instinct of womanhood, told Lucy:-- "You just watch, and mark my word. A woman is in this pudding! Old Bill just couldn't boom out in such a way without having a goal in sight; and I'll put up a dollar on it." And Lucy, also a woman, said smilingly:-- "And I'll put up a dollar and a half!" But His Honor and Lady Gadsby, at such talk would look skyward, cough, and say:-- "Possibly a woman; and a mighty young woman, at that." Now, if anything will "warm up" a public, it is gossip; particularly if it is about mystifying actions of a public man; and this had soon grown to a point at which a particularly curious man or woman thought of going to Old Bill and boldly asking: "Who is it?" But, as I said, what Councilman Simpkins would say to such "butting in" was known to all Branton Hills. No. Councilman Simpkins could doll up and trot around all that that portly Solon might wish; but, so to say, a sign was always hanging from his coat front, saying:-- "HANDS OFF!!" * * * * * Nina Adams and Virginia sat on Gadsby's porch with Nancy and Kathlyn; and Old Bill was up as a topic. Virginia, constantly smiling and inwardly chuckling, hadn't much to say about our frisky Councilman; and Nancy and Kathlyn couldn't fathom why. But Nina, not so backward, said: