'd try the chance, and keep on trying."

He was only a boy, though developed and deepened in character by his
long illness until at times he spoke with the dignity and thoughtfulness
of a man. Now his words rang true, and Theodora, as she stood beside him
looking down into his eyes, was satisfied; and as she went home to begin
her great undertaking, she thanked Providence, as she had so often done
before during the past few weeks, for bringing her so loyal a friend.

It was with a feeling of elated self-consciousness that Theodora took
her place in the family circle, that evening, with her little writing
tablet in her hand. As she seated herself near the light, she cast a
pitying glance at her family who were talking of trivial details, quite
unconscious of the fact that that evening would mark an epoch in the
literary history of America. They were used to her and to her tablet,
and beyond the slight shifting of the group needful to give her a place
by the table, she called forth no comment from anyone but Phebe, who,
bent on teasing, turned the fire of her questions upon her older sister.
Mrs. McAlister promptly quieted her by a suggestion of bedtime; and
Theodora, left to herself, paused to smile in anticipation of the day
when, book in hand, she could remind them all of that evening. Then she
launched forth into a description of the swaying figure and drooping
hair of Violet, too eagerly intent upon mustering the forces of her
adjectives to heed the scratching of her own pen, or the conversation of
the others. Once only she was roused from her writing to hear her father
say, as he entered the room,--

"Yes, I've just been over there, and Will is improving, every day. I
can't see why he won't be walking a little, in a week or so. I hope so,
for he's had a long pull of it, and he has shown splendid pluck."

For an instant, Theodora was conscious of a jealous pang. Once on his
feet and independent, good-by to her good times with Billy. He would be
free to seek boy society and boy sports, and her company would cease to
interest him. Angry at herself for her selfishness, yet conscious of a
vague dissatisfaction with the future, she bent still closer over her
writing, while her stepmother answered,--

"Really, Jack? I had no idea of it's coming so soon. Did you know that
Jessie has asked us all to eat Thanksgiving dinner with her?"

The talk strayed on, but Theodora had lost herself once more. She had
finished with Vi