Phebe, Her Profession: A Sequel to Teddy: Her BookRay, Anna Chapin
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Phebe, Her Profession: A Sequel to Teddy: Her Book
Ray, Anna Chapin
Friendship -- Juvenile fiction; Girls -- Juvenile fiction; United States -- Juvenile fiction
"But do you think you ought to try it, Teddy?" her husband remonstrated.
"Won't it be too hard for you? I can just as well tell Harry to put her
into a school."
For one more instant, Mrs. Farrington wavered. Then she saw the frown
between her husband's brows, a frown of anxiety, not of discontent.
"No; it will be good for us, Billy. We are getting too staid, and we need
some child-life in the house. We can try the experiment, anyway; and it
will be easy enough to pack her off to school, after we have grown tired
of her. Will you write, to-night?"
"If you are sure you think best."
"I do; and perhaps I'd better put a note into your letter. It may make
Harry feel easier about leaving the child with strangers. He will find it
hard enough, anyway."
She crossed the room to her desk, to write the letter which was to bring
new courage to the anxious, exiled invalid. Suddenly she turned around,
with her pen in mid air.
"Billy, the hand of fate is in this. The girl may be just what
Allyn needs."
"Ye--es; only it is within the limits of possibility that they may
fight."
"Then they will have to make up again, living in such close quarters as
this. Besides, that kind of fighting isn't altogether unhealthful. I
believe the whole matter is foreordained for Allyn's good."
"It is an optimistic view of the case that wouldn't have occurred to me,
Ted. Still, we'll hope for the best."
Valiantly she took his advice and hoped for the best, while she busied
herself about the details of receiving her new charge. March was already
some days old, and it had been decided that Cicely should arrive on the
twentieth, so the time was short. In the midst of her domestic duties,
Theodora found time for some hours of writing, each day, for she had a
well-founded fear lest the new arrival might be of little help to the
cause of light literature. In the intervals, she and Billy discussed the
invasion of their hearthstone from every possible point of view; but as a
rule the ridiculous side of the situation prevailed and they had moments
of wild hilarity over the coming demands on their dignity.
"Uncle William!" Theodora observed, one day. "It suggests a scarlet
bandanna and an ivory-headed cane. She will probably embroider you some
purple slippers next Christmas too."
"No matter, so long as she doesn't undertake to choose my neckties. Never
mind, Ted; the uncertainty will soon be over. She comes, to-morrow."
"I wonder what she really is like," Theodora said slowly. "Paternal
testimony doesn't count for much, and I am beginning to be a little
alarmed at what I may have undertaken. _Independent_ and _not too badly
spoiled_ are not reassuring phrases, Billy."
"Her mother was as staid as a church, and Harry is sobriety itself, so
the girl can't have inherited much original sin from either of them.
Independent from Harry's point of view doesn't mean the same thing that
it would from yours. She probably is a mild-mannered little product of
the times."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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