"I have to be. It takes too much time to sort out things. Your bureau drawers would give me a fit." Phebe rolled up her stockings with an emphatic jerk.
"It is no credit to you to be orderly, Babe; you were born so. I wasn't," Theodora said tranquilly, as she took up the photographs. "Billy's bump of order is large enough for both of us, though."
"I should think you would be terribly trying to him," Phebe remarked frankly.
"Poor old William! Perhaps I am; but he is considerate enough not to mention it."
Phebe rose to bestow an armful of clothing in a bureau drawer.
"He looks so well." she said. "I do wish his mother could see him. She worries about him even now, and gets anxious if the letters are delayed. If she could see him, she would leave that off. He is ever so much stronger than when we went away."
"Married life agrees with him. What is this, Babe? It isn't marked."
"It's the hotel at the foot of the Rigi, not a good picture, but I hadn't time to get any other."
"Was that where you left Mrs. Farrington?"
"Yes."