"To be sure," thought Phil. These were Edgar's mother and sister and home. Somehow he could not fit the blasé society man into this Arcadia. He must make the most of to-day.
As his hunger wore away he looked more and more from the windows. The dining-room might have been on a ship for the freedom of its vast sea views. When they rose from the table, he looked at Kathleen with boyish expectancy.
"Are we going to walk?" he asked.
Mrs. Fabian interposed with the best intentions. "I don't think Kathleen had better go, after all, Phil," she said. "She is very tired. She is going to lie down. You won't mind running about this first afternoon by yourself, I'm sure."
Kathleen saw disappointment and then concern grow in the guest's face, for he suddenly observed that she was pale.
"Nonsense, I wouldn't think of wasting time lying down," she said cheerfully. "Wait a few minutes. I'll be downstairs in a jiffy."
Mrs. Fabian watched her as she ran lightly up the stairway.
"Do you think she ought to go?" asked Phil doubtfully.
"Philip," returned his hostess dryly, "don't ask me what I think. If you ever have a daughter twenty years old and just out of college, you will find the safest, wisest course is not to think at all." But she smiled as she said it; for this time Kathleen's waywardness was not displeasing.