Papa put the two chapters of the Fetich carefully away; then he took his
seat at his desk and said, "Now I wish to hear the meaning of this most
extraordinary and unwarrantable behaviour."
For an instant neither of us spoke; then, just as I opened my mouth,
Phil began. He made a very short story of it,--how, through Max, we had
heard of Mr. Erveng's being a publisher, and how the story about his
liking fat old ladies had put the idea into our heads to dress up and
call on him, and interest him in papa's book.
Papa frowned at us over his glasses. "What has Mr. Erveng to do with my
book?" he asked, sternly. "And why did my son put my most cherished work
into a stranger's hands without my knowledge?"
"Because--" began Phil; then he got as red as a beet, and stood
plucking at the skirt of nurse's gown without another word.
I felt sorry for Phil. I knew that, like me, he had done it in the
interest of the whole family; so when papa said a little sharply, "I am
waiting for an answer, Philip," I said very quickly, "Please don't be
angry with Phil, papa; we did it because we thought if Mr. Erveng knew
of the Fet--book, he'd want to buy it, and then perhaps you would finish
it, and sell it for a lot of money, and then Fee--um--eh--we could do
lots of things.
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