ora glanced about her at the astonished faces of her family.
Surprise and disapproval seemed to be meeting her on every hand. Even
Allyn stopped eating his bread and milk, and pointed his spoon at her
accusingly. Then she turned to her father, who was entering the room.

"Phebe has just found out about Huntington's, papa," she said, with
brave dignity. "Are you willing to tell them how it happened, and why I
did it?"

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"Ted! Teddy! Theodora McAlister!"

Theodora was passing the Farringtons' grounds. At the third call, she
looked up. Billy, on the piazza, was waving his cap in one hand and
pounding the floor with one of his crutches with the other.

"What's the matter?" she called, at a loss to account for these vigorous
demonstrations.

"Come up, and I'll tell you," he shouted. "Hurry up about it, too."

"Is the house on fire?" she demanded in feminine alarm, as she turned
and sped across the lawn.

Billy laughed derisively.

"If that isn't just like a girl! It's nothing of the kind, Ted; it's
good news."

"What a scare you gave me, you sinner!" She dropped down on the step
below him and fanned herself with her hat, for it was noon of an August
day. "What is your great news, anyway?"

"Uncle Frank is sick again."

"But I thought you said it was good news," Theodora said, in some
perplexity.

"So 'tis. Wait till you hear the rest of it. He isn't dangerous, only
comfortable; but the doctors say he'll die unless he goes up into the
mountains. He won't go unless mamma goes, and so she's going."

"But for the life of me, I don't see anything so very good in all that,"
Theodora said again.

"It is very solemn and serious so far, for he's really awfully ill, and
mamma doesn't want to leave me, and she feels that it is her duty to
go," Billy answered, trying to subdue the rapture written in every line
of his face. "Now we're coming to the good part,--good for me, that is,
for I don't know what you'll say to it. She is going to be away for six
weeks, and I'm to be at your house."

"Oh, Billy, how splendid!" Theodora's tone left no doubt of her
sincerity. "When are you coming?"

"Day after to-morrow. Mamma had a letter, this morning, and she's been
in a great pickle about it. She felt she ought to go, for there isn't
anybody else; but she couldn't take me. I'm not up to mountain climbing
just yet, and she was bound she wouldn't leave me alone. Finally, I
suggested going to your hous