"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.