"You deserve better things, Phil, than the entertainments this town affords. You were destined for the wider world; I've always felt that about you."
He had forced a slower pace than the quick step with which Phil had set out. His mind was working busily. Phil was an exceedingly pretty and a very intelligent girl, and it would be a good stroke on his part to marry her. Amzi would undoubtedly do the generous thing by her. He had made his boast to Fred—and why not? There was no surer way of staying Kirkwood's hand than to present himself as the affianced husband of the lawyer's daughter. Phil's mother did not matter, after all. Kirkwood would probably be relieved to find that Phil had been rescued from a woman he had every reason to hate.
"You never looked so well as you did to-night, Phil. I was proud of you. And you won't mind my saying it, but it was fine of you to go with me when—well, you know what I mean."
Phil knew what he meant. She said:—
"Fine, nothing. You were kind to ask me and I had a good time every minute."
"I wasn't sure you'd go. Things have happened queerly—you know what I mean."
Phil knew what he meant.
"Oh, don't be looking for queernesses; we've got to take things as they come along. That's my way of doing; and I'm more than ever convinced that optimism is the true doctrine."
In spite of herself her last words ended a little dolorously. He was quick to seize advantage of this unfamiliar mood.
"I hope you know that any trouble that may come to you is my trouble, too, Phil. Not many girls would have done what you did to-night. No other girl I ever knew or read of would have taken the chance of stirring up gossip as you did in going with me. It was splendid and heroic."