“Oh, it was too delicious!” exclaimed Phillis, when she had retailed this interview for Nan’s and Dulce’s benefit. “I knew mother would behave beautifully. If I had taken the Princess of Wales in to see her, she would not have had a word of apology for her apron, though it was a horrid coarse thing of Dorothy’s. She would just have smiled at her, as she did at Mrs. Cheyne. Mother’s behavior is always lovely.”
“Darling old mammie!” put in Dulce, rapturously, at this point.
“I made some excuse and left them together, because I could see Mrs. Cheyne was dying to get rid of me; and I’m always amiable, and like to please people. Oh, it was the funniest sight, I assure you!—Mrs. Cheyne with her long fingers blazing with diamond rings, and the peas rolling down her silk dress; and mother just going on with her business in her quiet way. Oh, I had such a laugh when I was back in the work-room!”
It cost Phillis some trouble to be properly demure when Mrs. Cheyne came into the work-room some time afterwards in search of her. Perhaps her mischievous eyes betrayed her, for Mrs. Cheyne shook her head at her in pretended rebuke:
“Ah, I see; you will persist in treating things like a comedy. Well, that is better than putting on tragedy airs and making yourselves miserable. Now I have seen your mother, I am not quite so puzzled.”
“Indeed!” and Phillis fixed her eyes innocently on Mrs. Cheyne’s face.
“No; but I am not going to make you vain by telling you what I think of her: indiscriminate praise is not wholesome. Now, when are you coming to see me?—that is the point in question.” 196
“Dorothy will bring home your dress on Saturday,” replied Phillis, a little dryly. “If it requires alteration, perhaps you will let me know, and of course I will come up to the White House at any time.”
“But I do not mean to wait for that. You are misunderstanding me purposely, Miss Challoner. I want you to come and talk to me one evening,—any evening. No one but Miss Mewlstone will be there.”
“Oh, no!” responded Phillis, suddenly turning very red: