“Certainly—it would be nonsense to wait for him—will you—oh, thank you, Philip, yes, just ring the bell at the side-door, twice. They understand. What a comfort it is to have some one who knows our little ways!”
“A tame cat,” said Philip meekly, “Well, thank you. You are not so lavish of civil speeches to me, you and Ermine, as to make me inclined to quarrel with even the ghost of one.”
“Come now, that’s not quite fair,” said Ermine, as the kettle and hot cakes duly made their appearance, “one doesn’t make civil speeches to one’s best friends, one keeps them, like calling cards, for acquaintances.”
“Well, not civil speeches then—nice, gratifying speeches.”
“I should have thought you must be tired of that sort of thing,” Madelene replied.
Philip looked at her with an expression of inquiry, but of annoyance, too.
“Do you mean, Maddie, that you think I am spoilt?” he said. “If you do, I wish you would say so plainly.”
Madelene felt a little conscience-stricken.
“No,” she said, “I don’t really. But I think it is a great wonder that you are not. You are a fair prey to flattery—rich, handsome, clever—”
“Madelene, stop,” exclaimed Philip. “I might retaliate—why are you and Ermine not spoilt then?”