"I forgot it, mother, really," said Kathleen. She sat down and began taking off her gloves. "But he couldn't have come."
"No," added Edgar. "He had a guest; your friend Eliza Brewster was there with her cat."
"Eliza!" echoed Mrs. Fabian, sitting up. "Is she going to cook for Philip?"
"No," said Kathleen. "She is going to Brewster's Island to-night."
"I tried," added Edgar, "to get her to send you the cat as a souvenir, but she refused."
"I'm glad she is leaving town," said Mrs. Fabian. "She is a very ungrateful person and I detest ingratitude. Moreover, a person who is in an anomalous position is always annoying, and Aunt Mary made Eliza so much a member of her family that the woman doesn't know her place. What was she doing over at Phil's?"
"Overseeing the moving in of Aunt Mary's dunnage," replied Edgar.
"Why! Has he more than one room?" asked Mrs. Fabian with interest.
"No, mother," said Kathleen, in a tone designed to offset Edgar's sprightly scorn. "He has just one, and nothing in it but piles of Indian blankets and a table and chair."