"Pore devil!" remarked Pip dispassionately.
"Master Pip!" cried the scandalised Emily, blushing in a manner which Mr. Pipes thought most becoming.
Pip, who had just gathered this pearl of speech from the lips of one of the hatless young gentlemen who talked of "Ops," turned his steady and inscrutable gaze upon Emily, beneath which that damsel's fetching frown faded, as it always did, into an uneasy smirk.
"There is something about that child," she once confided to Cook, "that makes me feel as weak as water. Looks at you as though your 'air was coming down on your face smudged. Says nothink, but he's a masterful one. Be a terror some day!"
Meanwhile Pipette, in whose charitable little soul a new and splendid scheme of outdoor relief had just sprung into being, asked, in a tone of suppressed excitement—
"Mr. Pipes, please, does your Terriphone go straight to our house?"
"As straight as straight, me lady," replied Mr. Pipes, who affected an easy jocularity when conversing with Pipette.
"Ooh!" Pipette turned to her brother.
"Pip, amind me to tell you somethin' when we get home."
Pip turned a cold glance upon her.