word, and, for the next week, she was Hubert's
constant attendant and slave. He lorded it over her and played with her
by turns; but he appreciated the sacrifice she was making for him and,
more than he realized, he enjoyed the return to their old intimate
relation. It was not that he was jealous of Billy. It was not that Billy
had intentionally come between them. There had been a time, however,
when the twins were all in all to each other. Then Theodora's horizon
had suddenly broadened to admit Billy. Among his many boy friends,
Hubert had found no one with whom he could be on correspondingly
intimate terms. He frankly avowed that he liked no one else so well as
Teddy, and he had been a little hurt to find that he apparently no
longer occupied a similar place in her affections. But, whatever danger
there had been of their drifting apart, Hubert's opportune attack of
measles seemed to have vanquished it, and the twins stood more firmly
than ever before upon their old footing of mutual and unrivalled
intimacy.

Two days after Hubert went out of doors for the first time, Billy
appeared at the McAlisters', demanding Theodora. She was long in
presenting herself; and, when she came down, her face was flushed and
her lips a little unsteady.

"Hullo, Ted! Come for a ride?"

"Don't feel like it."

"Why not?"

"My head aches."

"The air will do it good. It's a fine day. Come on."

"But I can't."

Billy looked perplexed.

"What's the row, Ted? Have I done anything?"

"Of course not."

"What is it? Something's wrong."

She hesitated a moment.

"Nothing, only my story has come back."

"The mischief! When?"

"To-day."

"What for?"

"He said 'twas crude and sensational, and the work of a child."

"The old beast! Truly, Ted, I'm so sorry."

"So am I; but crying won't mend matters."

"Send it to mamma's friend in New York," he suggested kindly.

"And be pulled through by force? Not much, Billy Farrington! If my story
won't go of itself, I won't have any friends at court helping me on.
Some day, I am going to write a novel that will be worth taking. Till
then, I won't be helped out on poor work. Wait a minute. I will go to
ride, after all."

Billy sat looking after her, as she went away in search of her hat.

"She has good grit," he observed to himself; "and I believe she'll get
there, some time or other."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"But it would be such fun, papa," Theodora said, with a suspicion of a