When all the household had retired except the twins and Judith, they sat on the porch conversing until Miss Eliot noticed for the first time an air of restraint that was unusual. Fearing she might herself be responsible for this she pleaded some letters to be written as an excuse to go to her room, and bade them good night.
“Cheer up, dear,” said Phœbe, when their cousin had gone in. “Didn’t I promise to save you?”
“Yes; but you can’t do that, little sister. No one can save me.”
“There is one way,” announced the girl, decidedly.
Phil sat thinking.
“Yes,” he said; “if Eric would confess, that would end it all. Do you imagine he will?”
“Nor I. I have thought of everything; but the snare is too strong to be broken.”
Phœbe did not reply at once. She sat looking out into the night, lost in thought. Presently she roused herself and whispered:
“Phil, will you take a little walk with me?”