"Aren't you coming?" she called to Helen as she started toward the gate with Phil.
"No. I'll stay with uncle and aunt," said Helen hesitatingly.
"Seventeenth cousins from America don't appear often," Phil put in, perhaps a bit luke-warmly.
Helen shook her head.
"Oh, please, that's a good mouse!" urged Heinriette.
"No!" said Helen, a sharpness in her voice unlike Heinriette's now and a flash of what seemed pent-up irritation in her eyes.
It was not an agreeable exhibition, Phil thought. But Henriette smiled as if accustomed to such outbreaks, explaining in an aside:
"Train-riding always tires her. You mustn't mind her abruptness. She has more fire, is more French, than I am."
They had gone only a few steps when Helen ran after them. She was flushed, with a singular, penitent look in her eyes, and the voice of Henriette might have been continuing softly as she said:
"Please, I didn't mean to be tempery. But I had planned to do something and I'll arrange the flowers for the table."