"Not till you've found the mahl-stick," she drawled, with stars in her eyes. "My brother is so curious about your painting implements, Mr. Sidney."
"They're in these boxes," responded Phil. "The very ones that dear little Aunt Mary used."
He had paid the expressman and was pulling down his cuffs. His guests were both standing.
"Personally," he continued, "I think the contents of the barrel more interesting just now. You mustn't go without a cup of tea. One moment and I'll make a raid on Pat for a hammer."
Phil left the room and Edgar still stood, quite flushed under his sister's smile.
"Do you want any tea?" he asked severely.
"I think I do," replied Kathleen.
"I'll send the car back for you, then."
"Not at all," she answered; and when the girl's voice took this tone and her eyes narrowed, her brother usually paid attention. After all, Kathleen was a useful court of last appeal. It was unwise to offend her.