"Perhaps she does, Jack."
The clamor broke out again.
"When did you--?"
"How did you ever--?"
"Why didn't you tell us that--?"
"How long--?"
"What will Billy Farrington say?" Hope asked at length.
"He'll say, 'Didn't I always tell you so?'" Hubert answered, smiling
across the table at his twin sister.
Afterwards they lingered on the piazza, talking and laughing, begging to
see the manuscript, teasing Theodora about her secretiveness, and
congratulating her again and again. It was an attractive group, Theodora
in the midst, a tall, handsome girl in the full ripeness of her maidenly
beauty, her arm linked in that of her twin brother, while pretty Hope
stood facing them, with Archie at her side.
Allyn came up to them as they stood there.
"Take these, Teddy," he said, holding out his hand.
"What are they, Allyn?" she asked, loosing Hubert's arm as she bent down
over the child.
"Clovers, four-leafed ones. They will bring you luck," he answered, with
childish superstition.
"How many you find, Allyn! I never see any," she said, taking the
handful of green leaves.
"Put them in your belt, and the first man you shake hands with, you'll
marry," Phebe suggested pertly.
"Not I. I'm doomed to old-maidhood," she said, laughing.
"Give them to Hope, then," Phebe said, careless of Hope's blushes.
"Never. They are mine. You gave them to me, didn't you, Allyn?"
"Yes," the child said gravely. "You'd better keep them and put them in
your belt. Hope doesn't need them as much as you do."
In the midst of the laugh that followed, Theodora went away to her room
to write the momentous letter which should accept the publisher's offer.
It cost her some pains to write it, to attain the proper degree of
indifference, equally removed from coldness and from childish eagerness.
The clock beside her told that an hour had passed over her task, and a
little heap of torn papers lay on the desk before her when the maid came
to call her.
"There's some one in the parlor to see you, Miss Theodora."
"Who?"
"He didn't tell me his name."
"Bother take him!" Theodora remarked to herself. Then she added aloud,
"Well, I'll be right down."
It was characteristic of Theodora that she delayed to give no glance at
the mirror. Just as she was, with her ruffled hair and in her simple
pink morning gown, she ran down the stairway and entered the cool, dark
parlor. As she crossed the threshold, the guest rose to greet her,--a
guest with a tall, athletic figure, a sunburned face, keen blue eyes,
and a mass of reddish golden hair.
"Billy!"
"Ted!"
"Where did you come from?"
"'The Ankworks package.'"
"But really?"
"I landed, yesterday afternoon. I was bound to give you a surprise, and
I think I've made it out. Glad to see me?"
"You dear old boy! Have you any doubts about it? How well you're
looking, and how--how stunning!"
"Ditto, ma'am. The years have agreed with you, I suspect."
"Yes. And you? You've told so little about yourself. You do write horrid
letters, Billy."
"Your old frankness, I observe," he said mischievously.
"I know it; but when I am longing to hear if you're well and all about
you, you write reams of student gossip. I forgive you, though, now I see
you, for you look better than I ever supposed you could."
"Not much like the flabby chunk of flesh that used to call itself Billy
Farrington?" he asked complacently.
"Not a bit, you giant; but you're the same old Billy. Is it polite to
say you've grown? Walk off, and let me look at you."
Turning, he made a few quick strides up and down the room, laughing, as
he did so, at the perfect satisfaction written on her face. Then he came
back and took her hand once more.
"Will it pass, Teddy?" he asked, looking down at the tall girl beside
him.
"Yes, in every way. You're sure you are as strong as ever?"
"Sound as a nut. And, by Jove, Ted, after two years of Dutch Gretchens,
it is good to see you again."
[Illustration: SOMETHING IN THE EXPRESSION OF THE BLUE EYES ABOVE HER
MADE HER OWN EYES DROOP.]
Something in the expression of the blue eyes above her made her own eyes
droop. Then suddenly she flushed and drew away her hand, which, all
this time, had been lying in his two strong brown palms, for, as she
looked down, her glance had chanced to fall upon the bunch of withered
leaves which still clung in her belt.