“Not quite? Oh, Phil, what do you mean?” cried Jessie, imploringly.
Anxiety and alarm showed so plainly on the girls’ white faces that Phil suddenly relented.
“Don’t get scared,” he continued, elegantly. “Your guardian isn’t sick. If she were, I guess she wouldn’t be making plans for visiting Burleigh.”
“Is that the truth?” Lucile demanded, seizing her brother’s arm. “Don’t play any more tricks, Phil,” she pleaded. “It means an awful lot to us, you know, if Miss—Mrs. Wescott is coming.”
“Oh, that’s on the level all right,” Phil answered with evident sincerity. “She just made up her mind a little while ago and Jim thinks she will probably write to you girls about it.”
“Oh, just think, we are really going to see her again after six months,” Jessie exclaimed, joyfully.
“And we’ll give her a reception she will never forget,” Lucile decided.
“All right; I’m with you,” Phil shouted, and was off to join a crowd of the fellows on the other side of the street.
“Don’t forget we eat soon,” Lucile called after him.
“Such a chance,” he flung back. “Bet I’ll be there before you will.”