Cyrus looked at him with that slightly sneering smile that always enraged Ted. "You're proud of your sister, I suppose?" he inquired politely. Ted reddened. Then he grew strangely quiet. "Yes," he said, "I believe I am. I've come pretty close to Ruth these last few days, and I think that's just what I am--proud of her. I can't say I'm proud of what Ruth did; I'd have to think more about that. But I'm proud of what she _is_. And I don't know--I don't know but what it's what a person _is_ that counts." He fell silent, thinking of what he meant by that, of the things he felt in Ruth. Cyrus laughed mockingly. "Rather a curious thing to be proud of, I should say. What she 'is' is--" Ted jumped up. "Don't say it, Cy! Whatever it is you're going to say--just don't say it!" Cyrus had risen and was putting in his pocket a paper Mr. McFarland had given him. "No?" he said smoothly, as if quite unperturbed. "And why not?" At that uncaring manner something seemed to break inside Ted's head, as if all the things Cyrus had said about Ruth had suddenly gathered there and pressed too hard. His arm shot out at his brother. "That's why not!" he cried. He had knocked Cyrus back against the wall and stood there threatening him. To the minister, who had stepped up, protesting, he snapped: "None of _your_ put-in! And after this, just be a little more careful in _your_ talk--see?" He stepped back from Cyrus but stood there glaring, breathing hard with anger. Cyrus, whose face had gone white, but who was calm, went back to the table and resumed what he had been doing there. "A creditable performance, I must say, for the day of your father's funeral," he remarked after a moment. "That's all right!" retorted Ted. "Don't think I'm sorry! I don't know any better way to start out new--start out alone--than to tell you what I think of you!--let you know that I'll not take a thing off of you about Ruth. You've done enough, Cy. Now you quit. You kept mother and father away when they didn't want to be kept away--and I want to tell you that I'm _on_ to you, anyway. Don't think for a minute that I believe it's your great virtue that's hurting you. You can't put that over on me. It's pride and stubbornness and just plain meanness makes you the way you are! Yes, I'm glad to have a chance to tell you what I think of you--and then I'm through with you, Cy. I think you're a pin-head! Why, you haven't got the heart of a flea! I don't know how anybody as fine as Ruth ever came to have a brother like you!"