Now they were at the church door, and she reached for her Bible.
"You are not going to invite me in, I suppose? You are tired of that effort, and have given me up?"
"'You said you would not go," she answered, with a wistful smile. She believed he was mocking her eagerness, and meant nothing else.
"I know I did; but isn't a bad promise better broken than kept? You need not ask me again. There is no need. I am going to accept your former invitations. Take me into your class, and introduce me to Mr. Easton."
"Did he really go into the class?"
"Oh, Daisy, you darling, you don't mean it? And what did Mr. Easton say? He liked him, didn't he? I knew he would."
"Oh, Daisy, how did you get him to go? I thought it was all over."
These were some of the exclamations and queries of the delighted mother and sister, who had waited between alternate hope and fear, to see whether Phil would really return with his cousin, or had joined his Sunday friends elsewhere.
Before she could make other than the most general answers, he had come down-stairs again, and joined the group in the back parlor.
"He is here to answer for himself," she said, with a smile, as he leaned over his mother's chair.