“It was adamant to every suitor till Philip appeared on the scene! Picture, if you can, the mid-Victorian Lilian scorning her suitors, but fainting in the arms of the true hero.”
“What is the name of your melodrama?”
“The Cruel Parent, or the Fate of Lilian North.”
Lilian was her gay self. Philip was coming. Her parents liked him, however doubtful they might be of the wisdom of an engagement. There would be more than a week in which to wear the beautiful ring. This itself would announce to the circle of Philip’s relatives the new relation. Then she and Philip could write during the months of separation, while they finished the school year. There would be vacations and all sorts of good times ahead. What a lovely world—for Philip loved her!
It took a little courage on Philip’s part to arrange this luncheon, but no effort was too great to win and please Lilian’s mother. Cathalina had heard him telephoning, the last few sentences, as she came into the library where he was. “Wasn’t that Lilian?” she asked.
“Yes, dear sister; I am inviting Mrs. and Miss North to go out to lunch with me.”
“Not going to ask us, too?” asked Cathalina, a little surprised.
“Not this time, Kit; the combination would be too much under the circumstances.”
“What do you mean, Philly?”
“I’ll tell you. Come over here, Cathalina.”