“But your cough, my dearest,” said her mother in a pleading tone.—“What do you say, Katharine? Would it not be more prudent for her to keep indoors?”
“I think it would be best for her to do as you wish,” said Aunt Katharine, with a half smile at Philippa’s pouting lips.
“I must go out with Dennis and Maisie,” said the little girl in a whining voice.
“Dennis and Maisie will be quite happy indoors,” said Mrs Trevor entreatingly; “you can show them your new violin, you know, and play them a tune.”
“I don’t want to,” said Philippa, with a rising sob.
Mrs Trevor looked alarmed.
“My darling, don’t excite yourself,” she said; “we will see—we will ask Miss Mervyn. Perhaps if you are very warmly wrapped up.”
Philippa’s brow cleared at once.
“Then we may go?” she said.
“Ask Miss Mervyn to come and speak to me a moment,” said her mother. “Such a difficult, delicate temperament to deal with,” she continued, as the door closed on her daughter. “Not like a commonplace nature,” with a glance at Dennis and Maisie; “so excitable, that it makes her ill to be thwarted in any way. Indeed the doctor forbids it.”