Phebe, Her Profession - A Sequel to Teddy: Her Book | Page 6

you
expected of her?"
It was nearly dark when the train rolled in at the familiar station. The
Farrington carriage was waiting, and beside it waited a grey-haired man
in plain green livery. The travelers hailed him as Patrick, and he
greeted them with a delight that was out of all keeping with the severe
decorum of his manner of a moment before. Then, merry as a trio of
children, they drove up the snowy streets, Theodora and Billy in wild
rapture at the thought of being at home once more, Hubert more quiet,
but none the less happy in the prospect of having his sister within reach
again.
They were to dine at The Savins, that night, and they drove directly
there. The low red house rested unchanged on its hilltop where the
twilight was casting greyish shadows across the snow. Lights gleamed
in all the windows; but no welcoming face was silhouetted against
them. Upstairs, Allyn was restlessly pacing his room at the back of the
house; below, a sudden fragrance of burning meats had sent Mrs.
McAlister flying to the kitchen, and for an instant the travelers stood
alone in the broad front hall, with no one to welcome them.
It was only for an instant, however. Dr. McAlister rushed out from his
office, and Mrs. McAlister came running to meet them, to exclaim over
them and lead them forward to the blazing fire. Then there was a thud
and a bump, and Theodora was gripped tight in two strong boyish arms
and felt a clumsy boyish kiss on her cheek, while she heard, not noisily,
but quite low,--
"Oh, Teddy, you've come at last!"

CHAPTER THREE
Phebe McAlister sat on the floor beside an open trunk. Around her was
scattered a pile of feminine mysteries, twice as bulky as the trunk from
which they had come, and the bed was littered with gowns as varied in
hue as in material. Pink chiffon met green broadcloth, and white silk
and blue gingham nestled side by side with a friendly disregard of the
fact that their paths in life would not often bring them together. The
whole room was in a wild state of disarray. The only orderly object in it
was Phebe herself.
A girl of the early twenties, perfect in health and in trim neatness, never
lacks a certain attractiveness; but Phebe went beyond that. At a first
glance, her features might be condemned as irregular, her eyes as too
piercing, her lips and chin as too firm. The next moment, all that was
forgotten. Phebe was rarely silent for more than one moment at a time.
As soon as she spoke, her face lighted and became whimsical, piquant,
merry, or fiery as suited her mood; and Phebe's friends were never
agreed as to which of her moods was most becoming. Pretty she was
not, beautiful she was not; but she was undeniably interesting, and at
times brilliantly handsome.
She looked up, as Theodora came into the room.
"How do? Sit down," she said briefly.
"I came over to see if I couldn't help you with your unpacking,"
Theodora said, as she paused beside the trunk.
"Thank you, no. I can do it."
"But it is such a trial. I love to pack; but unpacking is always rather an
anti-climax."
"I don't mind it," Phebe said calmly, while she sorted stockings
industriously.
"Let me do that," Theodora urged.

"No; it might be a trial to you, and I really don't mind. Sit down and
look at my photographs. They are in the third box from the top of the
pile in the corner."
"Methodical as ever, Phebe?"
"I have to be. It takes too much time to sort out things. Your bureau
drawers would give me a fit." Phebe rolled up her stockings with an
emphatic jerk.
"It is no credit to you to be orderly, Babe; you were born so. I wasn't,"
Theodora said tranquilly, as she took up the photographs. "Billy's bump
of order is large enough for both of us, though."
"I should think you would be terribly trying to him," Phebe remarked
frankly.
"Poor old William! Perhaps I am; but he is considerate enough not to
mention it."
Phebe rose to bestow an armful of clothing in a bureau drawer.
"He looks so well." she said. "I do wish his mother could see him. She
worries about him even now, and gets anxious if the letters are delayed.
If she could see him, she would leave that off. He is ever so much
stronger than when we went away."
"Married life agrees with him. What is this, Babe? It isn't marked."
"It's the hotel at the foot of the Rigi, not a good picture, but I hadn't
time to get any other."
"Was that