"You dear Phil!" she cried effusively. "I've been wanting to see you for weeks!"
Her aunt caught and held the brown hand Phil had drawn from her battered gauntlet.
"Father and I are out at the Run," Phil explained.
These were the first words she had exchanged with either of her aunts since Christmas. She was not particularly interested in what her Aunt Josephine might have to say, though somewhat curious as to why that lady should be saying anything at all.
"I can't talk here," Mrs. Waterman continued, seeing that Amzi lingered in the bank door. "But there are things I want to discuss with you, Phil, dear."
Main Street is hot on July afternoons; and Phil was impatient to get back to the cool hollows of the Run.
"Oh, any time, Aunt Josie," she replied hastily.
"It's only fair—to myself, and to Fanny and to Kate, for me to say to you that we never meant—we never had the slightest intention—in regard to your dear mother—"
"Oh, don't trouble about that!" said Phil. "Mamma never minded! And please excuse me; Amy's waiting."
She nodded good-bye, and walked through the bank to the new directors' room where Amzi was subjecting himself to the breezes of an electric fan.