"Poor Billy! How'd you like it not to be able to go out alone? He needs me."
"I can't go out at all."
"But he's been so for more than a year," Theodora said sharply; "and you have only been in the house four days. I should think you could stand that."
"I should think you could stay in, once in a while, with your own brother," Hubert retorted. "Charity begins at home."
"But I promised Billy—"
"I don't want you. Do get out and let me alone."
As a rule, Hubert was the most even-tempered of boys. Now, however, he felt himself aggrieved and deserted, and his tone was not altogether amicable.
"How cross you are!" Theodora snapped.
"Oh, get out!" And Hubert turned his back on his sister and yawned.
The door closed with a bang, and he heard Theodora's feet descending the stairway, with a vengeful thump on every step. Then he yawned again. There was nothing on earth to do; he was not ill enough to make it interesting, only a bore. Time was when Theodora would have stuck to him like a burr, and they would have contrived to have some fun out of even such untoward circumstances as this. Now she deserted him and went off with that confounded Billy. At this point in his musings, he dropped to sleep.