Ralph Henry Barbour

“ Brothers are nice, but sometimes they're terribly exasperating. As though I wasn't old enough to take care of myself!
That night was stifling hot and we sat on the porch until late, Jocelyn and Ned and I. Larry was over with Mr. Reed. It was really far too warm to talk much, and so we just sat there and drank lemonade and fanned ourselves and watched the young moon. After a while Ned, who had played twenty seven holes of golf that afternoon, went fast asleep on the edge of the porch, with his head against a pillar, and snored beautifully. ”

“ Larry swung on the top step and looked at me curiously.
“I say, sis, seems to me you're mightily interested in that chap.”
“I am? What about you? You've only known him an hour or so, and now you're going over to see him after dinner.”
“Well, I'm a man and it's different,” he grumbled. “Harrington—Reed—whatever his name is—is a fine chap, all right, but you can take it from me, old girl, that he'll never be anywhere except just where he is, flat on his back. And you don't want to go and get flossy about him. It won't do.”
“Larry, you just mind your own affairs,” I cried angrily. ”

“ From the sounds that penetrate to my cell I gather that you have brought some of the party back with you.”
“Yes, Jocelyn Hare and Ned Merrill; and Larry, of course.”
“And Larry, of course,” he echoed, with a laugh.
“Why do you laugh?” I asked, puzzled.
“I wasn't laughing at you, but with you. There's a difference, isn't there? I was only thinking how fond you are of that brother of yours, Miss Marjorie. It must be fine to have a brother—or a sister. I never had either. I never thought much about it before, but it seems to me now that a chap loses a lot by being the only one. ”