"Will you come again?" asked John, as he stood at the curb, while they stepped into the Neville motor.
"She's sure to," replied the Honorable Margaret promptly. "Saint Ruth's eats 'em alive. I came to scoff and remained to thread needles myself. Phyllis will be minding the babies in a month,—eh, Phil?"
"I should love to come again," said Phyllis.
"To-morrow?" asked John.
"No," said the Honorable Margaret. "To-morrow's not my day. I come on Thursday next."
"I think it would be convenient for me to come to-morrow," said Phyllis. "Perhaps that nice Mrs. Thorpe, to whom you introduced me, could find something for me to do. I am afraid I shall have to be taught how myself first, though."
"Great Scott!" cried the Honorable Margaret, leaning back in the car. "Saint Ruth has made one mouthful of you."
"Good-bye, Mr. Landless. Thank you again," said Phyllis, extending a cordial hand.
"Until to-morrow," said John.
He stood at the curb watching the receding car. When he reëntered the house, his smile lighted his face wonderfully.