"I hardly think you deserve it," remarks Molly, turning luminous, laughing eyes upon him. "Marcia has just been telling me of your bad habits. Fancy your preferring your breakfast all alone to having it with——"
"You?" interrupts he, quickly. "I admit your argument; it was bearish; but I was particularly engaged this morning. You shall not have to complain of my conduct in the future, however, as I am resolved to mend my ways. See how you have improved me already."
"Too sudden a reformation, I fear, to be lasting."
"No. It all hinges on the fact that the iron was hot. There is no knowing what you may not do with me before you leave, if you will only take the trouble to teach me. Some more toast?"
"No, thank you."
Marcia grows a shade paler, and lets one cup rattle awkwardly against another. Have they forgotten her very presence?
"I have not much fancy for the rôle of teacher," goes on Molly, archly: "I have heard it is an arduous and thankless one. Besides, I believe you to be so idle that you would disgrace my best efforts."
"Do you? Then you wrong me. On the contrary, you would find me a very apt pupil,—ambitious, too, and anxious to improve under your tuition."
"Suppose," breaks in Marcia, with deadly civility, "you finish your tête-à-tête in the drawing-room. We have quite done breakfast, I think, and one wearies of staring at the very prettiest china after a bit. Will you be good enough to ring the bell, Philip?"
"Our tête-à-tête, as you call it, must be postponed," says Philip, smiling, rising to obey her order; "I am still busy, and must return to my work. Indeed, I only left it to pay you a flying visit."