Theodora, upon being liberated, went at once to the garden, and here she found Arthur Hoyt awaiting her. He was leaning over the wall, looking sullenly toward Teddy as she approached.
"I thought you were never coming," he said. "What made you so long?"
"I've been shut up," returned Teddy. "They won't believe I didn't do it—except Aunt Tom. She believes me, but no one else will."
"What did you tell them?"
"That I didn't do it."
"Nothing else?"
"Of course not."
And then ensued the conversation with which this chapter opens.
Arthur Hoyt was eleven years old. He was the fifth member of this large family, Paul, Charlie, Clement, and Raymond being older than he. Paul was nearly eighteen, and it had been an act of great condescension on his part to join in the funeral festivities of the morning; but, in spite of the fact that he was to enter Harvard this fall, he secretly loved an old-fashioned romp with his four brethren, though he would not have confessed it for the world.
The boys were all lions of health and strength, with the exception of Arthur. He had always been delicate, and in consequence had been greatly indulged by his parents. His brothers were in the habit of treating him with more consideration than they showed to one another, looking upon him perhaps as they would have looked upon a sister. When Teddy came to Alden and they first made her acquaintance, they fancied that "all she would be good for," as they expressed it, would be to play quiet games with Arthur, but they soon found out their mistake.