And she would interrupt him in the middle of his sentence with:
"Oh, I see! You just want to do more than anybody else, don't you? Theodore Kent always does more than anybody else! Don't he, Sheila?" And this with a great show of admiration. Yet even to Sheila, whose loyal mind conceived with difficulty of any disrespect to him, the mockery of the apparent admiration would be obvious.
Yes, that was what would happen if he invited Charlotte to stay, and he felt himself flush at the fancied conversation. But he would ask Sheila. She really admired him! She appreciated him! If she was sometimes queer, she was a nice little thing in spite of that.
"Sheila!" he called.
She paused and looked back at him.
"Come here a minute," he urged. "I want to tell you something." And when she would have drawn Charlotte with her, he added: "It's a secret."
At which transparent hint, Charlotte flung off Sheila's arm and marched on, singing maliciously:
"Ted has got a secret—secret—secret!
Like a little gir-rul—gir-rul—gir-rul!"
And hearing himself thus effeminized, Ted winced and wondered if he had not better have asked her after all.
Sheila came up to him with a troubled face. The feud between him and Charlotte always hurt and bewildered her. "You've made Charlotte feel bad," she chided reproachfully.