“Then she is gone with him!” cried the Colonel.
“I am sure she has not,” said Mrs. Barrimore hastily.
“How can you be sure, dear?” he asked her hopelessly.
“I am sure, and I can’t tell you why,” she said, trembling.
How could Philip leave a letter for Phyllis if she were with him?
At that moment Mr. Burns came in, one arm full of library books.
“I say, Lane!” he broke out in his usual blustery fashion, “I would not let Phyllis go on the East Hill alone in the evening if I were you.”
“Phyllis! on the East Hill! When was she there?” demanded the Colonel.
“She went up by the lift quite late last night. I heard it remarked upon in the town, I am sorry to say. I thought you ought to know. Phyllis is a dear little girl, but she does too much as she likes. She is a bit of a handful, I know.”
“Burns, Phyllis has run away,” groaned the father.