Cicely shook her head.
"No; we were the ones to fight, and now we must be the ones to make up, without any go-betweens. Papa has always told me that dignity doesn't count in a case like this; and I'm willing to do anything reasonable. The only trouble is that I don't know what Allyn really wants. If he truly does wish I would let him alone, I don't see any use in my hanging on to him. Just once, more than a month ago, he said something that made me think he cared, and was glad to have me here; but it was only once, and maybe I was mistaken. It isn't forever since you were a girl, Cousin Theodora. What did you do in such cases?"
Theodora rapidly reviewed her past.
"I think I never had just such a case, Cicely," she said honestly. "Hu and Billy were my two best friends; and I don't think either one of them ever had a cross-grained day in his life. I was generally the aggressor, myself."
Cicely rubbed her head against Theodora's knee in mute contradiction.
"But what should you do in my case?" she persisted.
"I don't know. Sometimes I can't tell what to do in my own. Allyn is rather a puzzle."
"He's worse than an original proposition in geometry. I want to solve him and I can't. Papa has always taught me that we girls have a good deal of responsibility, and that we can help our boy friends a good deal, or else hinder them. Perhaps I am conceited; but it seems to me as if I could help Allyn, if I could get at him. Besides—" she hesitated.
"Well?" Theodora said encouragingly.
"Oh, it's silly to tell; but sometimes I wonder whether it wouldn't help you a little, at the same time. I'd love to feel it did; you have been so good to me. I know you worry about Allyn. You watch him as a cat watches a mouse, and you always seem to understand his queer ways and know just how to manage him. I wish I could do it as you do."