“I can balance on my broom if I need to,” Gus threatened, with a broad grin. He might be a giant in comparison, but he would always be her little brother, like it or not; they could be fifty and fifty-two and she’d never let him give up the title.

But the fact remained that she would give him anything, anything in her power that he wanted, if it would make him happy. Maybe she oughtn’t feel this way – she wasn’t his parent – but she felt as good as. Their father had left them; their mother wasn’t well; Gus had energy and ambition and affection in abundance, and had assigned herself parent and protector and friend as well as sister enough years ago, and unless George, now that he was all grown up, told her to stop one day, she damn well wasn’t going to. “Then have your stray, Georgie,” she said, with a fond little smile and a shake of her head. “How could anyone ever say no?”

---