“This morning?” he said. “I suppose to-morrow wouldn’t do? I want to go over to Coombesthorpe to-day if I can.”
“I am afraid to-morrow would not do,” said his grandmother. “I should like you to be at Mr Brander’s by twelve. I am going over to Coombesthorpe myself, so I can tell them you will be there to-morrow. Indeed I don’t think Maddie and Ermine will be home till this evening. I am going to see their father, who has been seriously ill.”
“And that child—I’m delighted to hear she is such a child still,” said Philip. “I suppose you look after her when the girls are away.”
“Yes,” said Lady Cheynes, dryly. “I do. But who told you she was ‘such a child’?”
“Ermine. She said that not the schoolroom even, but the nursery was Ella’s proper place,” replied Philip, honestly believing that he was literally repeating Ermine’s words.
“Indeed!” said Lady Cheynes slightly raising her eyebrows.
Then the bell was rung and Sir Philip’s dog-cart ordered to be round in half an hour.
“In the meantime,” said his grandmother, “if you will come to the study, I will explain to you the points which I wish Brander clearly to understand.” Philip sauntered to the study.
“Granny is even more than commonly energetic,” he said to himself, as he stood at the window gazing out at the wintry landscape while he waited for her. “However—I wonder if by any chance she knows anything about that lovely little personage last night! She has such quick eyes, I expect she noticed her—she could hardly have failed to do so. I expect the small princess is in trouble about her shoe this morning! It looks like a family heirloom.”
He drew it out of his pocket and looked at it—yes, by daylight it seemed even quainter. The satin was a rich creamy yellow, and the buckle was of curiously antique form.