“So I am,” he acknowledged, “but I should become an elephant if I didn’t exercise. ‘Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed, that he is grown so great?’ Annie, why don’t you prevent me from eating potatoes! And Dan is coming back to-morrow to paint my portrait!”
“What time is Dan coming?” inquired Mrs. Barrimore.
“In time for dinner. I asked Philip to come.”
“Did you know that Colonel Lane was coming?”
“No. But the more the merrier.”
“But—” Mrs. Barrimore hesitated. “But you know Philip is always vexed to find Colonel Lane here.” Her face flushed pinkly.
“If Philip don’t like it he can lump it,” said Uncle Robert curtly. “Philip is too masterful, too overbearing. He would like to regulate even me! I think, Annie, that you have been unkind to the Colonel.”
Mrs. Barrimore’s sweet mouth became tremulous. “I think, dear,” she said, “that we agreed not to speak of that. Colonel Lane and I are very good friends—oh, yes, very. He does not think me unkind.”
“I call it all tommy-rot,” said Uncle Robert, “to spoil your life and that good fellow’s, just because Philip has an objection to your remarriage.”
“Do you know that Phyllis suggested that perhaps Philip would take a fancy to Miss Le Breton?” she said, to change the subject.