"No, Alec," I said, "there isn't anything good about it. It's horrid feelings and hate that make me go."
He looked away from me as he always does when he disapproves, but he put his hand on my shoulder and I was grateful for that touch.
I turned on him frantically and burst out, "Alec Vars, you are the only one in this whole house I love—you and Father," I amended, for we all adore Father. "You're the only one who is kind or thoughtful. I've tried to do my duty in this place by you and the others, but I guess I haven't succeeded. Now I'm going away and we'll see how the twins enjoy a dose of Aunt Sarah." I paused, then added, "Look here, Alec, don't let Ruth go out to the Country Club. She is pretty and the older men—why, your friends talk to her and make her vain and hold her on the arms of their chairs. Don't let her go. And the twins—I haven't told on them yet—but they're smoking! They're dead scared for fear I'll tell Father, and I said that I should if I caught them at it again."
"Good Bobbie, you'd keep us straight if you could, wouldn't you?"
"No, I wouldn't," I flared back. "It's hate I feel and—"
Alec put his hand over my mouth.
"What shall I do to you?" he laughed.
I rose abruptly, crossed the room and closed the window at my back. There was a big lump in my throat and I stopped at the marble wash-stand built into one corner of my room, and took a drink of water. Then I went back to my glove-sorting.
