He had seen Phyllis weeping and despairing before.
“Philip does not want to marry me. It is all a mistake!” sobbed Phyllis. “He could not marry me if he wished to ever so.”
“Is she going to confess?” thought Philip. “I hope to goodness she is!”
But she was not.
“I suppose Philip has a wife already that he is ashamed to own to, then? That is what your words imply.”
“Oh, no! no!” cried Phyllis.
“Think you have said too much, eh?” sneered the Colonel. “Go and wash your face and do your hair, and come home. You have evidently got a cycle from somewhere.”
“You will be sorry some day for the injustice you have done me, sir,” Philip said, thinking only of himself and the false position into which the folly of Phyllis had placed him. He had taken her part, but he was intensely angry with her. He wished he had never seen her.
Of course, his mother and Mr. Burns would hear the Colonel’s version, and he, Philip, would be unable to defend himself, because he had promised Phyllis to keep her secret. It was intolerable!
When Phyllis was going away she cast an imploring glance at him for sympathy, but he turned his head away.