“There auntie! There’s a treat for your dinner! Eight brace of birds, and all bagged in less than two hours! Say! have you got any fresh meat for Æneas and Dido? Good dogs! Good dogs!” she continued, patting the heads of a fine pointer and a finer retriever.
“My dear, don’t you see a lady present?” said the housekeeper, in an admonishing tone.
The girl seemed to see the lady for the first time. She fell back a step or two, dropped her chin upon her chest, turned up her eyes shyly, and put her finger in her mouth like a stupid and awkward child in the presence of a stranger.
“Mrs. Lindsay, this young person is my naughty niece, Philippa.”
“I am glad to see you, Miss Cummings,” said Gloria, who could not help thinking all that awkward shyness was just put on for the fun of the thing.
“My name is Phil. I don’t know myself by any other name,” replied the girl, giving her hat a push that cocked it on one side of her curling, salmon-colored hair, and gave an additional air of impishness to the mischievous face beneath.
“Then I am even gladder to see you, Phil! Gladder than I should be to see Miss Cummings. I hope we will be friends. Shall we, Phil?”
“I don’t know—maybe—I think so—if you don’t begin to put on airs with us,” slowly and condescendingly replied the elf.
“I hope I shall do nothing so silly. Why should you suspect me?”
“Oh, I know you are our young lady of the manor, and have come with your fine husband, who is a very great man indeed, to take possession of everything! If the ghosts up there will let you. Ah!” said the imp, with a malign leer in her beautiful, long, light blue eyes.