"Not a soul. Uncle Cal's going to have his upstairs and he says I may
ask you. Please stay. I don't go to school in the afternoon and maybe I
can help you, if you'll show me how."

Richard smiled at the notion, but accepted the eager invitation,
and presently found himself sitting alone with the lad at a big,
old-fashioned mahogany table, being served with a particularly tempting
meal.

"You see," Ted explained, spooning out grapefruit with an energetic
hand, "father and mother and Steve and Rosy have gone to the country to
a funeral--a cousin of ours. Louis and Rob aren't home till night except
Saturdays and Sundays, and Ruth is at school till Friday nights. It
makes it sort of lonesome for me. Wednesdays, though, every other week,
Rob's home all day. When she's here I don't mind who else is away."

"I was just going to ask if you had three brothers," observed Richard.
"Do I understand 'Rob' is a girl?"

"Sure, Rob's a girl all right, and I'm mighty glad of it. I wouldn't be
a girl myself, not much; but I wouldn't have Rob anything else--I should
say not. Name's Roberta, you know, after father. She's a peach of a
sister, I tell you. Ruth's all right, too, of course, but she's
different. She's a girl all through. But Rob's half boy, or--I should
say there's just enough boy about her to make her exactly right, if you
know what I mean."

He looked inquiringly at Richard, who nodded gravely. "I think I get
something of your idea," he agreed. "It makes a fine combination, does