“You are very kind. But you do not understand,” returned Phillis. And then she stopped, and a gleam of fun came into her eyes. Her sharp ears had caught the rattle of cups and saucers. Actually, that absurd Dorothy was bringing in tea in the old way, making believe that they were entertaining their friends in Glen Cottage fashion! She must get out the truth somehow before the pretty purple china made its appearance. “Oh,” she went on, with a sort of gulp, as though she felt the sudden touch of cold water, “you come here meaning kindly, and asking us to your house, and taking compassion upon us because we are strangers and lonely, and you do not know that we are poor, and that we have lost our money, and––” But here Mr. Drummond was absolutely rude enough to interrupt her:
“What does that matter, my dear Miss Challoner? Do you think that is of any consequence in mine or my sister’s eyes? I suppose if I be your clergyman––” And then he stopped, and stroked his beard in an embarrassed way; for though Phillis’s face was pale, there was laughter in her eyes.
“Oh, if this be a parochial visit,” she began, demurely; “but you should not have talked of tennis, Mr. Drummond. How do you know we are not Roman Catholics, or Wesleyans, or even Baptists, or Bible Christians? We might have gone to your church out of curiosity on Sunday, or to see the fashions. There is not a Quaker cut about us; but, still, we might be Unitarians, and people would not find it out,” continued Phillis, looking with much solemnity at the bewildered young Anglican.
The situation was too absurd; there was no knowing to what length Phillis’s recklessness and sense of humor would have brought her, only Nan’s good sense came to the rescue:
“Phillis is only in fun, Mr. Drummond. Of course we are Church-people: and of course we hope to attend your services. I am sure my mother will be pleased to see you, when you are kind enough to call. At Oldfield we were always good friends with our clergyman: he was such a dear old man.”
“Do you mean to forbid my sister’s visits, then?” asked Archie, looking anxiously at her sweet face; Nan looked so pretty, in spite of her discomposure.
“Oh, no! we do not mean to be so rude: do we, Phillis? We shall be so glad to see Miss Drummond; but—but,” faltered Nan, losing breath a little, “we have been unfortunate, and must work for our living; and your sister perhaps would not care to visit dressmakers.”
“What!” exclaimed Archie: he almost jumped out of his chair in his surprise.
Phillis had uttered a faint “Bravo, Nan!” but no one heard her. Dulce’s cheeks were crimson, and she would not look at 137 any one; but Nan, who had got out the dreaded word, went on bravely, and was well hugged by Phillis in private afterwards.
“We are not clever enough for governesses,” continued Nan, with a charming smile, addressing Mattie, who sat and stared at her, “and there was nothing we dreaded so much as to separate: so, as we had capable fingers and were fond of work, my sister Phillis planned this for us. Now you see, Miss Drummond, why we could not accept your kind hospitality. Whatever we have been, we cannot expect people to visit us now. If you would be good enough to recommend us, and help us in our efforts to make ourselves independent, that is all we can ask of you.”