But Philip felt flattered at Ann's evident anxiety to be alone with him.
"Go and do as you are told, Conrad," he said, in lofty tones; "go to the other end of the terrace at once."
"It's rather hard on me," said Conrad. "I like having secrets as well as anybody else; the air is full of secrets to-day—why shouldn't I have some?"
"I'll have a secret with you by and by," said Ann, "if you'll only go away now."
The little boy looked at her, saw she was in earnest, and obeyed somewhat unwillingly.
"Now then, Ann," said Philip, "speak out; be as quick as ever you can."
"Philip," said Ann, in a solemn voice, "don't you want to know all about the children who are coming to-night?"
"Is that what the secret is about?" said Philip in disgust. "Do you know, Ann, what I heard Miss Ramsay say to Simpson to-day. She said that the new children would be awful bothers, and that she for one does not know if she is going to stay, and Simpson said she was sure that she would give notice too. Miss Ramsay said it was an awful shame bringing four children to the house, and Simpson threw up her hands. You know how she looks when she throws up her hands. And she said, 'Them's my sentiments, Miss Ramsay.' Do you know what she meant by 'Them's my sentiments,' Ann, 'cos I don't? I never heard such funny words before. Did you, Ann?"
"No," said Ann; "but you ought not to have listened, Phil."
"Oh, I often listen!" replied Philip calmly. "I get to know all kinds of funny things that way, and they turn out no end useful. I know lots of things about Miss Ramsay, and since I just let her know that I did, she is not half so hard on me. That's how I find listening useful."