Phyllis tripped merrily along at his side, chattering. None of his snubs appeared to affect her.
At last he said: “You are pretty heartless, Phyllis. You care nothing that your poor father is probably nearly mad with anxiety, and I can’t relieve it till you have sailed.”
“Dad deserves to be a little worried, after being so cross,” she declared.
“I think he has been amazingly patient,” Philip told her, and added venomously: “Don’t get falling in love with anyone else on the way out! I shall tell Mrs. Hurst to keep a strict hand on you.”
“How unkind you are, Philip!” (She spoke with great feeling.) “When I am going to my dear Charlie! I shall be thinking of him every minute till we land! And won’t he be surprised to see me! But I suppose you will cable, won’t you?”
“Yes, I shall cable. He sent you a letter. My mother has it. But you can do without that now. It was to ask you to come out and to tell you about the money.”
Phyllis laughed.
“Money! oh, won’t I spend some in those lovely bazaars I have heard of! Dan is welcome to his beautiful Aimée Le Breton now!”
What was it in those words which brought a sudden chill to Philip Barrimore’s heart?
An image of the girl seemed to float before his eyes. He remembered her sweet calm, as he had told her his worries, a calm that had helped him. Yes, she had something that Eweretta had never had. She had more character, more sympathy. Eweretta had been charming, but Aimée was really more alluring.