The doctor was away, that day, and Theodora was too proud to ask the others any questions. She briefly explained to her mother that Mrs. Farrington had invited her to spend the afternoon and dine there, and, putting on her broadest hat, she went away across the lawn. Patrick admitted her, and, even in the momentary glimpse she had of him, she saw that he looked unusually grave. As she entered the library, however, she was reassured, for the room looked just as usual, with Billy lying on the familiar lounge by the fire. It seemed so good to her to get back there, after her self-imposed banishment, that, forgetful of her cropped head, she sprang forward to his side. "Oh, Billy!" "Have you really come, Ted? I began to think you'd cut me. Where have you been?" "At home. But what's the matter, Billy?" For, as she took his hand, she was startled at his pallor and at the heavy shadows under his eyes. "Only this set-back," he answered. "My back's given out again, so I can't move a bit." "What do you mean? When was it?" She dropped down beside him, and rested her arm on the edge of the lounge. "Didn't you know it?" "No. When was it?" "How queer you didn't know! It was three days ago. I strained myself somehow or other, and it kept getting worse, till it's about as bad as it was at first." "Oh, Billy!" Theodora's overstrained nerves were giving way. After her outbreak, after the shame which had followed and the week when she had missed her friend daily and hourly, this last was too much. After all her protestations of loyalty, he had been ill and suffering, and she had not known it, nor been near him at all. "And you have to lie flat on your back, like this?" she demanded almost fiercely. "Yes." "And it hurts?" "Yes." "Much?" "Some--yes, a good deal." "All the time?" He nodded. "And I didn't know it, and you wanted to see me, and I never came near you." All at once, Theodora's head went down on her hands. "What did you think, Billy?" "I thought you'd got sick of me," he answered frankly. "I couldn't see any other reason you should go back on me just now. I did miss you like fury, Ted." "Why didn't you send word to me?" He looked up at her with an odd little smile. "Wait till you are flat on your back and no special good, and you'll know why." His smile hurt her. She laid her hand on his again. "Did you think that, Billy, really and truly?" "Yes; that is, sometimes, but I don't now. You've stuck to me pretty well, Teddy." "Do you know what was the reason I didn't come?" she asked impulsively. "No." "It was this." She pulled off her hat and sat before him, a strange, forlorn-looking Teddy, with her cropped head and tear-stained eyes. "Jove!" "Yes, I did it," she confessed bluntly. "I was mad at Hope and cut it off." The boy lay staring at her in surprise. She drooped her head, unable to meet the amused look in his eyes. "It's awful; isn't it?" she asked.