the
pores."

"I am quite well," Annie repeated, and the door closed behind her.

"Dear Annie! She is always doing odd things like this," remarked Jane.

"Yes, she is, things that one cannot account for, but Annie is a dear,"
said Susan.

"I hope she is well," said Annie's father.

"Oh, she is well enough. Don't worry, father," said Imogen. "Dear Annie
is always doing the unexpected. She looks very well."

"Yes, dear Annie is quite stout, for her," said Jane.

"I think she is thinner than I have ever seen her, and the rest of you
look like stuffed geese," said Benny, rudely.

Imogen turned upon him in dignified wrath. "Benny, you insult your
sisters," said she. "Father, you should really tell Benny that he should
bridle his tongue a little."

"You ought to bridle yours, every one of you," retorted Benny. "You
girls nag poor Annie every single minute. You let her do all the work,
then you pick at her for it."

There was a chorus of treble voices. "We nag dear Annie! We pick at dear
Annie! We make her do everything! Father, you should remonstrate with
Benjamin. You know how we all love dear Annie!"

"Benjamin," began Silas Hempstead, but Benny, with a smothered
exclamation, was up and out of the room.

Benny quite frankly disliked his sisters, with the exception of Annie.
For his father he had a sort of respectful tolerance. He could not see
why he should have anything else. His father had never done anything
for him except to admonish him. His scanty revenue for his support and
college expenses came from his maternal grandmother, who had been a
woman of parts and who had openly scorned her son-in-law.

Grandmother Loomis had left a will which occasioned much comment. By its
terms she had provided sparsely but adequately for Benjamin's education
and living until he should graduate; and her house, with all her
personal property, and the bulk of the sum from which she had derived
her own income, fell to her granddaughter Annie. Annie had always
been her grandmother's favorite. There had been covert dismay when the
contents of the will were made known, then one and all had congratulated
the beneficiary, and said abroad that they were glad dear Annie was so
well provided for. It was intimated by Imogen and Eliza that probably
dear Annie would not marry, and in that case Grandmother Loomis's
bequest was so fortunate. She had probably taken that into
consideration. Grandmother Loomis had now been dead four years