with grey eyes; rather wistful-looking, not
exactly pretty, but with `a way with her' that simply mows 'em down!"

"Give her some spirit, mind!" cried Madge once more. "I hate your
mawkish heroines--sort of creature you would call `The Maiden.' Don't
call her `The Maiden,' Theo, if you wish me to buy a copy; and whatever
you do, I pray and beseech you, don't write in the present tense: `I am
leaning against a stile; the roses are falling in heavy clusters by my
side; the rays of the sun are pouring on my uncovered head and turning
to gold the wayward curls which refuse to lie straight despite all my
efforts.' Don't you know the kind of thing! I feel inclined to throw a
book in the fire when it begins like that. Don't let your heroine have
`wayward curls,' Theo. Don't let her have `little tendrils wandering
over her brow.' Don't say in every chapter that `she had never looked
more lovely;' and for goodness' sake don't let the husband and wife
behave like idiots, and quarrel all the time, though they are really
expiring of love!"

"Well, really! Any more instructions? It's a pity you don't write the
whole thing while you are about it," said Theo testily as she pushed her
choir from the table.

The family had grown to dread the times when Theo was settling on a plot
for a new story. She was so restless; she wandered about in such an
aimless manner; she looked so thoroughly worried and unhappy. Sometimes
the girls would try to help her with suggestions, and then she would
listen with a forbearing smile, and say, "Oh, thank you! Yes, it's
_very_ good. I should think a capital story might be made out of it,
but somehow it doesn't appeal to me."

At other times, when they were never thinking of helping, and were
engaged in what seemed the most ordinary conversation, Theo would
suddenly clap her hands and cry, "Oh, that will do! Good! _Now_ I've
got it!" and rush excitedly from the room, leaving her sisters to
discuss what in the world they had said that could possibly suggest a
romance. Verily, an author in the household was a difficult person with
whom to deal!

For the next few days Theo sat alone in her room making futile efforts
at a beginning, going out for long walks along the crowded streets, or
sitting shivering on the seats in the Park. In deference to her
condition, Hope kept away from the piano while she was at home; but no
sooner was the door closed behind her than she flew to try the effect o