“Mercifully not; and yet we were all queer sticks,” Theodora observed tranquilly.  “We appear to be working out our own salvation, though, whether it’s writing or bones, and Allyn will probably follow our example when he is old enough.”

“I wish he might.  He is giving me more trouble than all the rest of you put together, and the worst of it is that I don’t know whether he needs a tonic or a thrashing.”  The good doctor knitted his brows and endeavored to look stern.  “I suspect it is the latter,” he added.

Theodora shook her head gayly.

“It wouldn’t be of any use, papa.  We must bide our time.  Allyn is queer, most mortal queer; but these may be the mutterings of genius, a volcanic genius that is getting ready to erupt.”

“I never regarded bad temper as a sign of genius.”

“Perhaps not.  But, even if it isn’t, thrashings only leave callous spots.  You’d better try the tonic.”

They had been walking up and down the front lawn.  Now they turned, as by common consent, and strolled away towards a more distant part of the grounds.

“Is anything new the trouble?” Theodora asked, after an interval.

“No; only that his school reports get worse and worse, and that he appears to have a perfect genius for losing friends.”

“Even the warty James?”

The doctor laughed.

“I can’t blame him for half his antipathies,” he said; “and that makes it hard for me to corner him in an argument.  The boy was born with a hatred of dirt and of lying and of toadying, and he is utterly intolerant of anybody who shows anything of the three.  His theories are all right, only his way of carrying them out makes him rather unpopular.  But what is worrying me now is his school work.  He isn’t stupid; but his marks are away below par.”

“You might try the tonic,” Theodora said.  “But what about Babe?”

“Don’t ask me, Ted.  That girl defies prediction.  She always did.  One day, I think she will bring glory to us all; the next, I want to turn her out of my office.  She is as smart as a steel trap; but she is as lawless as Allyn.  It’s in a different way.  I blame them both; but I am sorry for him, while I want to shake Phebe.  She could do anything she chose, but she never really chooses.  Sometimes I think she is only playing with her study.  The next day, she astonishes me by some brilliant stroke that makes me forgive all her past laziness.  She’s splendid stuff, Ted, only she needs a balance-wheel.  The fact is, the girl is selfish.  She isn’t working for love of her profession and the good it can do to others; all she cares for is the pleasure she takes in it, the pride that it brings her.  That may do in some lines; but a doctor must think beyond that and outside of himself and his own interests.”

“That’s true of most of us,” Theodora said; “at least, that is what we are aiming at.”

“Some of us; not all.  Teddy, you are a comfort to your old father.”