Experience had taught her that Sister Hope, gentle as she was, must be obeyed when she spoke in that tone, and Phebe sullenly yielded to the inevitable and became quiet.
Meanwhile, Theodora had pounced upon Allyn, caught him up in her strong young arms, cuddled his fluffy yellow head against her cheek, and gone away upstairs, whither Phebe followed them with a crushing dignity which sought for no good-night kiss. Hubert cast himself down on the old sofa and fell to rummaging his sister's basket. He smiled a little, as she showed him the vast hole in the toe of his sock; but it was some minutes before he spoke. Then he said slowly,—
"Never mind, Hope. It's in the air, and we all feel it."
He was silent again. Upstairs, they could hear the tap, tap of Teddy's energetic heels, as she moved to and fro, settling the two children for the night. Then she was still, while Allyn's shrill, childish treble rose in his evening petition,—
"Now I lay me down a shleep,
I tray a Lo' la tol a teep,
I ta die afo' I wake,
Tray a Lo' la tol a take.
It I at a Jedu' shlake. A-nen!"
Ten minutes later, she came back to the dining-room and threw herself down on the sofa, with her head on Hubert's knee and her elbow in the orderly work-basket.
"Do you know," she said abruptly; "I think our venerable father is a goose."
"Teddy!" Hope's tone was remonstrant.
"I can't help it, if it isn't respectful; I do. He's lived long enough to know better, and he ought to be put to bed without his supper, even if it is his wedding day." She started up, to add emphasis to her words; but Hubert seized her two long braids of hair and drew her head down on his knee again.
"Calm yourself, Teddy," he said, bending forward to peer into her face. "You are worse than the children. I told Hope that it was in the air, to-night."