"To tell me the gossip, of course. When a fellow is away in camp, it's good to get letters from friends at home." Archie's tone was charged with the sentimentality of his years. He was sorry to turn his back upon civilization once more, sorry to lose touch with his adopted nieces; and, above all, most humanly sorry to find that Theodora was taking his approaching departure in such a philosophical spirit. "Oh, I'd just as soon write, if you want me to," she answered, while she settled her collar and gave a feminine tweak to her sleeves; "only I don't see the use of it. Mamma will be sure to write, and there's no use wasting stamps in telling you the news twice over." Assuredly Theodora was not inclined to sentiment, and Archie strolled away to Hope, in search of appreciation, just as Phebe bounced into the room. At sight of Theodora's new gown, she halted abruptly. "I suppose you think you look pretty well," she said crushingly. "Well, yes, I do," Theodora replied, with feigned indifference, for she always shrank from Phebe's criticism. "How do you like it?" Phebe walked around her and inspected her from top to toe with provoking deliberation. "It wouldn't be so bad," she remarked at length. "The coat isn't quite right in the back, somehow; and isn't your hat a little mite one-sided?" "Oh, Babe, I wish anything ever suited you," Theodora broke out impatiently. "You always find something wrong somewhere." But Phebe rebuked her. "Now, don't get cross, Teddy. Mrs. Farrington won't think you're a good companion for Billy, if you are as cross as that." "Companion?" "Yes. Of course she wouldn't have taken you to New York, if she hadn't wanted somebody to take care of Billy when she was busy." Phebe had a genius for aiming her shafts which was far in advance of her years. Theodora winced; then she turned to her little sister with a sort of fierceness. "Who said so?" she demanded. "I say so," Phebe returned calmly, as she settled herself on the sofa; "and so does Isabel St. John." Theodora's exasperation reached a climax. "If you two children don't stop talking over my affairs, I'll tell papa," she said in impotent rage, for the McAlister code of honor scorned brute force, and she dared not give her young sister the shaking she so richly deserved. "Tattle-tale!" Phebe replied in brief derision. Theodora fled to her room, for she felt that she was no match for her composed young adversary. Hope found her, an hour later, sitting in a heap on the side of her bed. "Don't mind, dear," she said gently. "I knew Babe had been saying something hateful; but it's only her way. Mrs. Farrington wants you to have a good time, and I'm so glad you are going. Three weeks in New York will be good for you, and you will see ever so much. Just think how lonely we are going to be without you and Archie!" Her voice broke a little. Theodora kissed her impulsively.