"Do you think you can run?" Philip asked, when we stood on the dry ground at the end.
"I can--and will--do anything you tell me to--anything on earth."
He laughed.
"It occurs to me that it was perhaps as well you had that little attack of eccentricity just now; otherwise it might have been ages before we arrived at an understanding."
I was entirely of his opinion. I knew he was right. But then he always is.
We ran all the way home; except when we stopped at intervals, to say things. Though it was frightfully difficult; because, of course, all my clothes were sopping. But I was never the least bit ill. Nor was Philip. I changed directly I got in; and Philip changed into a suit of Dick's. It did not fit him, but he looked awfully handsome. And so like a great overgrown boy. So it did not matter if I did behave like a child.
When Nora and the boys came home they opened their eyes when they heard of our adventures. And what amazed me was that they seemed to take it quite for granted that Philip and I should be on the terms we were. Dick offered his congratulations--if they could be called congratulations--in the most extraordinary form.
"Well, old man, you've escaped one funeral, but you're booked for another--that's a cert.!"
The opinions which brothers allow themselves to utter of their sisters are astonishing. Fancy Dick calling me a funeral!