I had nearly reached the Anderson home, and the noisy gayety of the party was in my ears, when two persons met at the gate and went slowly in together.
It was Amos Judson and Lettie Conlow.
"Well, of all the arrangements, now, that is the best," I exclaimed, as I went in after them.
Tillhurst was talking to Marjie, who did not see me enter.
"Phil Baronet! 'The handsome young giant of the Neosho,'" O'mie shouted. "Ladies and gentlemen: This is the very famous orator who got more applause in Topeka this week than the very biggest man there. Oh, my prophetic soul! but we were proud av him."
"Well, I guess we were," somebody else chimed in. "Why didn't you come home with the crowd, handsome giant?"
"He was charmed by that pretty girl, an old sweetheart of his from Massachusetts." Tillhurst was speaking. "You ought to have seen him with her, couldn't even leave when the rest of us did."
There was a sudden silence. Marjie was across the room from me, but I could see her face turn white. My own face flamed, but I controlled myself. And Bud, the blessed old tow-head, came to my rescue.
"Good for you, Phil. Bet we've got one fellow to make a Bothton girl open her eyeth even if Tillhurtht couldn't. He'th jutht jealouth. But we all know Phil! Nobody'll ever doubt old Philip!"
It took the edge off the embarrassment, and O'mie, who had sidled over into Marjie's neighborhood, said in a low voice: