to say," said Philippa
severely. "You know how interested we are; and if we _are_ critical,
surely it's better to discuss faults with us than to let them go
uncorrected. This is a special story, and in consideration of our
anxiety--"

"Oh, well!" said Theo unwillingly, "I'll read it if you like. Get your
sewing, and don't stare at me all the time. It's quite short. You
won't like it, I expect. Let me sit near the lamp."

She was evidently nervous, and her voice was decidedly shaky for the
first few pages; but after that she forgot herself, and read with
expression and power. If one of the girls moved, she looked up with a
frown; and when Madge groaned and clasped her hands over her heart at a
particularly touching part of the love-story, she stopped short and
fixed her with a basilisk glare. It was a story of a truly modern type,
which, so to speak, began at the end and worked slowly but surely back
to the beginning. It was by no means certain, too, what the heroine
did, or why she did it; and if one had been sceptically minded, one
would have doubted whether the author knew herself. Hope was puzzled,
Madge engrossed and curious; Philippa was frankly bored. Her own nature
was straightforward and outspoken, and she had no patience with what
seemed to be wilful obtuseness. Her attention waned as a Martha-like
anxiety seized her in its grip; her eyes wandered to the clock, and her
brow grew furrowed. Alas for the trials of the author in the household!
At the very moment when Theo was preparing to deliver the crucial
sentence on which hung the whole construction of the plot--in that
thrilling moment wherein she paused and drew breath, the better to
deliver it with due emphasis and dramatic effect--an anxious voice
claimed precedence and cried loudly:

"_Hope_! It's after five. _Did_ you remember to order the fish?"

It was too much for flesh and blood to endure. Up bounced Theo; down
dashed the MS on the table; bang went the door after her departing
figure as she fled to her bedroom for refuge, while the two younger
sisters stared across the room with eyes large with reproach.

"Phil, how could you? How cruel! At the most exciting point! How
_could_ you do it?"

"I'm sorry," said Philippa; and she really looked it. "I didn't mean to
vex her; but Steve will be home in less than an hour, and there is only
cold meat. I was so anxious about the fish. Was there much more to
read? You might finish i