“‘And what is Home without a Mother?’” said Philip, with an affectionate glance in Mrs. Barrimore’s direction.
“Who is quoting now?” cried Uncle Robert, beaming. “Do you know, Mrs. Le Breton,” he went on, “my quotations drove that young man from home! He couldn’t stand them. They got on his nerves.”
“I think I got on everyone’s nerves,” said Philip. “I begin to see that I am an intolerant beast.”
Uncle Robert stared. What had come over Philip? The Brighton air seemed to have performed miracles.
Eweretta dropped her table-napkin and stooped to pick it up, but it was not the stooping that flushed her pale cheek.
She did not once look at Philip till the meal was ended.
But Philip looked at her more than once.
She was wearing a black felt hat, wide in the brim, on which was a wonderful white ostrich feather. Philip decided that black and white was by far the most becoming combination. Eweretta, he remembered, had dressed less quietly, though in perfect good taste.
The guests left soon after luncheon, and Alvin offered to give Philip a “lift” home. But Philip, thanking him, said he wanted to stay a day or two with his mother.
It was then that Philip once more saw Eweretta looking out of the eyes of Miss Le Breton.