She picked up her muff, drew out a parcel tied with red ribbon, with a bit of mistletoe tucked under the bow-knot, and tossed it to Amzi.
"It's perfectly bully that you're back," she said, addressing herself again to her mother. "Actually here all right,—a real Christmas surprise. I'll take that up with Amy later; he's no business playing such a trick. But it must tickle you to see how dee-lighted everybody is! Oh, are you off, Aunt Josie? Hello, Lawrince!" She turned to wave her hand to Hastings at the door, where Waterman, Fosdick, and he had witnessed their wives' discomfiture. Those ladies were now attempting to impart to their exits the majesty of righteous indignation.
Phil kicked an old carpeted footstool to the hearth, and dropped upon it at her mother's feet.
"What an old fraud Amy is not to have told me!"
She waited for the ultimate sounds of departure, and kissed her fingers to the closed door.
Then she raised her arms quickly and drew down her mother's head until their cheeks touched.
"Thunder!" said Amzi, and left them together.