illumined face. It did not seem a time to break
in on her. But she held out her hand with a little welcoming gesture
and, though strangely subdued, smiled lovingly at him as she said, "Come
on in, Ted."

Something that the boy felt in her mood made him scowl anew at the thing
he had to tell her. He went over to the window, his back to her, and was
snapping his finger against the pane. "Well," he said at last, gruffly,
"Cy gets in today. Just had a wire."

Ruth drew back, as one who has left exposed a place that can be hurt
draws back when hurt threatens. Ted felt it--that retreating within
herself, and said roughly: "Much anybody cares! Between you and me, I
don't think father would care so very much, either."

"Ted!" she remonstrated in elder sister fashion.

"Cy's got a hard heart, Ruth," he said with a sudden gravity that came
strangely through his youthfulness.

Ruth did not reply; she did not want to say what she felt about Cy's
heart. But after a moment the domestic side of it turned itself to her.
"Will Louise come with him, Ted?"

"No," he answered shortly.

His tone made her look at him in inquiry, but he had turned his back to
her again. "I was just wondering about getting their room ready," she
said.

For a moment Ted did not speak, did not turn toward her. Then, "We don't
have to bother getting any room ready for Cy," he said, with a scoffing
little laugh.

Ruth's hand went up to her throat--a curious movement, as if in defense.
"What do you mean, Ted?" she asked in low quick voice.

Ted's finger was again snapping the window pane. Once more he laughed
disdainfully. "Our esteemed brother is going to the hotel," he jeered.

As Ruth did not speak he looked around. He could not bear her face.
"Don't you care, Ruth," he burst out. "Why, what's the difference?" he
went on scoffingly. "The hotel's a good place. He'll get along all right
down there--and it makes it just so much the better for us."

But even then Ruth could not speak; it had come in too tender a moment,
had found her too exposed; she could only cower back. Then pride broke
through. "Cyrus needn't go to the hotel, Ted. If he can't stay in the
same house with me--even when father is dying--then I'll go somewhere
else."

"You'll not!" he blazed, with a savagery that at once startled and
wonderfully comforted her. "If Cy wants to be a fool, let him be a fool!
If he can't act decent--then let him do what he pleases--or go to the
devil!"