It seemed as if everything was turning out favorably for his plan, for his mother answered:
“Well, I think I will accompany you—that is, if Philip won’t feel lonely.”
Philip’s heart beat with eager satisfaction. He had expected that he would be obliged to go to bed, and wait there till his father and mother were asleep, then steal downstairs, running the risk of detection, light a lamp, and commit the theft. Now it looked as if he could do it much more easily.
He answered, in as indifferent a voice as he could assume:
“I am not at all sleepy. I’ll stay up a little longer and read.”
Mrs. Ross nodded, in a satisfied way, to her husband.
“I do believe Phil’s getting fond of reading,” she said.
“I hope he is,” returned the father.
“Phil,” said his mother, “the servant is out tonight. A cousin of hers is sick, and I gave her permission to stay with her all night. Are you willing to close up the house?”
“Oh, yes,” answered Phil, briskly. “I’m glad she’s away,” he thought. “She won’t be spying round and see what I’m about. Besides, I can leave the door open, so that it will be easier to accuse Harry Gilbert.”