"Brave girl," returned Phil, "to dare to refer to that ill-starred day. I should never have had the courage."
"Do you ever hear from Eliza?" asked Kathleen.
"I received one letter after her arrival. It was mostly about her cat, Pluto. She said he acted like an imp of darkness."
"Why wouldn't he—saddled with that name?" returned Kathleen.
Phil watched the aqua-marines sparkle and dissolve on the whiteness of her neck.
"Your mother did to my stable what the brownies have done here while we were dining. Did she tell you?"
"She told me she bought you a few things."
"That is a modest way to put it. Will you come to tea with her some day this week and see for yourself?"
"I shall be glad to. I've not been able to remember you as being very comfortable."
The carol ceased. The odor of evergreen was fresh as the forest itself. The orchestra began a waltz.