It was bad enough to have one's sister--and two years younger at that--in the same grade, but to have her continually head and shoulders above him in scholarship was a most intolerable thing.

Not that he was dull.

No one knew better than himself that he was not dull.

But somehow--he did not quite know how--his mind was on other things and he was usually unprepared.
"Joe--please come here." There was the slightest possible plaintive note in her voice this time.
"Well ?" he said, thrusting aside the portiere with an impetuous movement.
He said it gruffly, but he was half sorry for it the next instant when he saw a slender little girl regarding him with wistful eyes across the big reading-table heaped with books.

She was curled up, with pencil and pad, in an easy-chair of such generous dimensions that it made her seem more delicate and fragile than she really was.
"What is it, Sis ?" he asked more gently, crossing over to her side.
She took his hand in hers and pressed it against her cheek, and as he stood beside her came closer to him with a nestling movement.
"What is the matter, Joe dear ?" she asked softly.