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Updated: June 16, 2025
In the whole wide world, only two persons could manage him in his refractory moods. One was his father; the other was his sister Theodora, and Theodora had been in Helena, all winter long. However, she was coming home that night, and Allyn's nose grew quite white at the tip, as he pressed it against the windowpane, in a futile effort to see still farther up the street.
In his honest boyish wonder, Allyn's voice regained something of its old friendliness. "Yes, I was almost ready for college; but, when I came up here, papa said I'd better take a vacation and only keep up my music," she answered, in an off-hand way which gave Allyn no hint that he was talking to the show pupil of Professor Almeron's school.
"What is the matter with them?" "Foolish." "Try the girls, then." "They're worse." "Hm." Theodora mused aloud. "Given ten boys: if nine of them all like each other, and the tenth doesn't like any of them, where does the trouble lie? Allyn you are getting cranky." "Maybe so; but I can't help it." "Yes, you can, too. Do you know, you need a chum." A sudden flash of fun came into Allyn's eyes.
"Perhaps not; but there is no upper class in a shop. But you said something about some drawings. Have you made some?" "Yes." "What are they?" "These." And Allyn offered a half-dozen sheets of paper to his father. Dr. McAlister glanced at them; then he put the reins into Allyn's hand. "Here," he said; "you can drive. I want to look at these."
Cicely, meanwhile, was mounting guard over Allyn's languages, advising, admonishing and often helping him along the devious paths of syntax and subjunctives. She had a good deal of time at her disposal. She gave it to him freely, and unconsciously she gained as much as she gave, in her work with the boy. Their comradeship was as perfect as was their unlikeness.
Just once, in the early days of her being in the Farringtons' household, Cicely, moved with pity at the sight of a bruised forefinger, had ventured upon a caressing pat on Allyn's cheek. It was much the caress she would have bestowed upon Melchisedek, if she had chanced to step on his paw; but she never forgot the look of disgusted scorn with which Allyn had marched out of the room.
Theodora demanded, for Allyn had always been her own especial charge, and her marriage had made no break in their relations. Allyn's home was as much at the corner house as at The Savins. "No; only the world goes hard with him. He has needed you, Teddy. The rest of us rub him the wrong way. He has a queer streak in him. I wish I could get hold of him; but I can't."
Allyn's voice hailed her, as she rode wearily up the drive, the water squelching in her shoes and her soaked skirt flapping dismally about her pedals. "Were you out in all that shower?" "Yes." "Why didn't you go under cover?" "There wasn't any cover to go under." Phebe's tone was not altogether amicable. "But the mud? It's all over your face, and your wheel, and your hair." "I fell off." "Where?"
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