a
great, thick letter from Dr. Parker all about it."

"And so they are really in the house. It has been empty so long that I
can't realize it," Hope observed thoughtfully. "Of course, if he were a
girl, it would make more difference to us."

"I don't see why," Theodora said, as she pulled off the ribbon from one
of her braids, and untied the bow.

"Why, because--Don't you see? He can't come to us, and we can't go
there; that is, none of us but Hu."

"I don't see why," Theodora said again.

"It wouldn't be proper," Hope said primly. "You can't go to call on a
boy, Teddy. Hu will go over, in a day or two, though."

"Not if he knows himself," Hubert returned. "I don't like freaks. They
make me squirmy, and I never know what to say to them."

"Then you're a pig," Theodora answered, with Saxon frankness. "It won't
be decent, if we don't try to make it pleasant for him. He's a stranger
to everybody, and shut up so he can't have any fun."

"I really think you ought to go, Hu," Hope said gently.

"I don't hanker to," he returned laughingly. "Let Ted go, if she wants
to."

"But she is a girl--" Hope began.

"Not more than half," Hubert interrupted, with a laughing grimace at his
twin sister, who stood by the sofa, looking scornfully down at them.

"You can do as you like, you two," she said. "It isn't a question of
whether it's proper or not; it is simple human kindness, and as soon as
I can, Hope McAlister, I intend to get acquainted with him. You've got
to go over there, Hu, and take me with you, just as soon as papa comes
home." She tied her ribbon with a defiant jerk.

Rather to her surprise, Hubert came to her support.

"You're all right, Teddy; go ahead. If papa is willing, Hope, I don't
see why she can't go to see him whenever she feels like it. It isn't in
my line. I always feel as if people smashed up in that way ought to sing
hymns all the time, and talk about Heaven. That's the way they do in
Sunday-school books, you know, and they never have tempers and things.
I shouldn't know what to say to that kind of a fellow, and I should only
make a mess of it; but if Ted wants to play the good Samaritan to him,
let her. For my part, I like whole people, or none at all." He squared
his shoulders and took a deep, full breath, as he spoke, in all the
pride of his boyish strength.

"We're bound to see a good deal of him anyway," Theodora urged, a shade
less hotly. "Right next door and a patient of papa's, it wo