" Perhaps this was a little
snippy, but I couldn't help it,--just as if I couldn't keep a thing to
myself. You see I didn't understand then what it all meant.
Phil looked straight at me for a minute, and it seemed to me there was a
kind of sorry expression came in his face; then he laughed. "Great head!
keep on being mum!" he said, in that teasing way of his, nodding at me.
"Now, Mr. Moses Primrose, suppose you set that tray down and vacate the
apartment--shut the door."
But I could see that he wasn't sorry I hadn't spoken of it; I've
wondered sometimes, since, whether things would have been different if I
had told Felix the whole business.
Well, he was a little pleasanter for a while; but when a telegram came
later in the day from Miss Marston, saying she'd be back in ten days to
take us to the Cottage, Phil got all off again, and scolded like
everything. He said it was a burning shame for us to have to stay in the
city and just _stew_, waiting for Miss Marston to "escort" us to the
Cottage, when he and Felix could have taken us there long ago; that he
wanted to go in the country _right away_; that papa'd made a big mistake
in keeping us back, and that he'd find it out when 'twas too late,--and
all that sort of talk.
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