"All right," replied the lady so designated. "Now tell me what Uncle Joseph said."
"Uncle Joseph," began Philip once more, "was with me on Sunday, when you were sitting here."
"Was I?" enquired Peggy with a touch of hauteur. Then she continued inconsequently: "I remember him quite well. Go on."
"He saw you," continued the hapless Philip, "when you smiled at me."
Miss Falconer's slim body stiffened.
"O—o—o—oh!" she gasped. "How can you say such a thing? I never did!"
Poor Philip—who had yet to learn the lesson that feminine indiscretions must always be accepted without comment and never again referred to without direct invitation—merely reiterated his tactless statement.
"But you did," he said. "Or perhaps," he added desperately, for Peggy's eyes were almost tearful, "you were only smiling to yourself about something."
To his profound astonishment this lame suggestion was accepted. Miss Falconer nodded. Her self-respect was saved.
"Yes," she said; "that was it. Go on."