women, and the young men and
women around her will respect her and try to pull themselves up to her
standard. You needn't be a prig, Ted. Be as full of fun as you can; the
more, the better, only choose your fun carefully. Your old father knows
what he's talking about, and he knows that girls have more influence
than most of them are willing to use."

Theodora's cheek was resting against her father's shoulder, and her eyes
had drooped.

"I will," she said humbly.

"And remember this, my girlie; I am always here to talk things over with
you and advise you. When you are older, perhaps you can help me with my
poorer patients. Till then, Teddy, wait, and don't try to do too much.
You're only my little girl yet; and the world is too big for you to
understand. Good-night, dear. Now I must go."

It was the last of the lecture; but, simple as it had been, Theodora
never lost the memory of the quiet hour in the office, and in after
years she learned to know the value of the lesson so gently given.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

"Back again, at last?" Billy looked up with a smile, as Theodora came
flying into the room.

"Yes. Have you missed me?"

"Haven't I? You mustn't go off again, Ted. You are altogether too
frisky."

"What could I do? Papa took me."

"Had a good time?"

"Beautiful. It's too much for one spring,--three weeks in New York, and
this lovely week of driving."

"You had good weather, sure enough. Also, ma'am, you're brown as a
squaw. Also, I think your hair has grown."

"Wish 't would; but that's a forbidden subject. I'll tell you one thing,
Billy Farrington: if I ever do get any hair again, I'll guard it like
the apple of my eye. But what about you?"

"News."

"Oh, what?" she questioned eagerly.

"Well, we went down to see Dr. Parker, last Saturday."

"What did he say?"

"That I'm doing as well as could be expected."

"What else? I know there's something good; you show it all over."

Billy tried to draw down his face, failed, gave up the effort, and
laughed instead.

"'Tis good, Ted. I told them not to tell you, for I wanted the fun of
it. He says I can plan to enter college, a year from this fall; he says
in three months I can walk as far as my crutches will take me, and he
says in a few years I'll be as well as ever. Isn't it fine? Why, Ted,
what's the matter?"

"Nothing; only I'm a goose." And Theodora looked up, her eyes shining
with happy tears. "You know I'm glad, Billy; only I don'