energy.
Let her go on."

Theodora rose and stood leaning on the back of his chair.

"You are such a comfort, Billy," she said gratefully. "I was afraid you
would be horrified at the idea, and feel that Phebe didn't appreciate all
your mother has done for her. It was a great deal for her to take a young
girl like Babe for two years, and give her the best of Europe. Babe
knows it, and she almost reveres your mother." She was silent for a
moment. Then she said impetuously, "Billy, are my family too near?"

"Of course not. Why?"

"Are they too much in evidence? We belong to each other, you and I; I
want you all to myself, and it seems as if my people were always coming
in to interrupt us,--not they themselves, but worries about them. I love
them dearly, and I want them; but I could be content on a desert island
alone with you. I never have half enough of you, and sha'n't, as long as
I have to bring up Allyn and Phebe and Hubert. Your family are
well-behaved; they stay in the background."

"They may crop up unexpectedly," Mr. Farrington answered, in a burst of
prophecy of whose truth he was unconscious. "But what about the book,
Teddy? It is time you were at work."

Theodora clasped her hands at the back of her head and began to pace the
floor. Her step was as free and lithe as that of an active boy; and her
pale gown brightened the color in her cheeks and in the glossy coils of
her hair. Her husband looked up at her proudly. They had been comrades
before they had been lovers; and, from the day of their first meeting to
the present hour, his admiration and his loyalty had been boundless and
unswerving. Suddenly she paused before him.

"William," she said; "I am lazy, utterly lazy. It is so good to be at
home again and keeping house all by our two selves that I want to enjoy
myself for a space. For a month, a whole month longer, I am going to play
and have the good of life. Then I shall shut myself up and say farewell
to the world while I create a masterpiece that will rend your heart and
your tear glands. Only," she dropped down on a footstool beside him;
"only I do hope that Allyn and Babe will return to their wonted habits,
and that this new cook will learn that one doesn't usually mash macaroni
before bringing it to the table. If it were not for the souls and the
digestions of our families, Billy, we could all produce great works."

CHAPTER FOUR

Theodora Farrington's saving grace lay in her sense of hu