"It is fer you, else all the money spint on me eddication is gone fer nothin'—and faith there's more to follow," added Pat, in a tone of such sudden surprise that Phil ran downstairs faster than he had gone up. A couch was approaching the stable door. This was followed by several large packages, upon one of which was tied a letter, and at last a Morris chair entered upon the scene.
"Ye're the very soul of extravagance," said Pat severely, when the delivery man had departed. "If ye're a poor art-shtudent, say so; but if ye're a prince in disguise, out with it!"
"This is a surprise party if I ever had one," declared Phil slowly, staring around at the objects.
"Poor art-shtudents don't buy iligant couches with box springs long enough fer the lord mayor!" said Pat, unconvinced. "What brings ye to a stable whin ye've the Queen o' Sheby fer an aunt?"
At the word a light illumined the situation.
"For a fact, Pat! You did tell me my aunt was here!" And in a flash Phil's mind reverted to Kathleen with a sensation of gratitude. In some way she had prevented the disagreeable details of yesterday from angering her mother.
"Give me a hand up, Pat," he said. "I'll guarantee this barrel will stay where it's put."
When they had all the articles upstairs, Phil found himself possessed of a springy bed with ample clothing for the night, and ample couch cushions for day; well-selected dishes, alcohol lamp and copper kettle, and a table on which to stand them, a reading-lamp, and the easy-chair.
"What do you think of it?" he said, looking about half-dazed.