"I don't know," he said slowly. "I don't want to go back home at all. For one thing, I don't see how I can. I have broken an order. I told Uncle Joseph about meeting you, and he forbade me to speak to you again so long as I lived under his roof. I shouldn't have come this afternoon—"
"Oh!" said Peggy reproachfully.
"You can't disobey an order," explained Philip gently. "But when I saw Uncle Joseph and the lady—like"—he coughed modestly—"like the way they were, I thought I might."
"He had broken his own orders," observed Miss Falconer jesuitically.
"Besides," continued Philip, "I am not going to live under his roof any longer. I hate it all so."
"Hate what?"
Philip recollected himself.
"The work I have to do," he said. "I used to like it once; but now—now I don't think it is very good work. Anyhow, I hate it. I can't go back to it. I only went on because—well, because of Uncle Joseph. He was very good to me, and I was some use to him."
"My dear, he won't want you now," said Peggy shrewdly.
Philip was conscious of a sudden thrill.