Archie brightened up visibly at this.
“Oh, indeed!” he observed, with alacrity. “Not a very long visit. Perhaps they came down purposely to see you?”
“Yes, of course,” returned Phillis, confusedly. “They had intended staying some days at the hotel, but Mr. Mayne suddenly changed his mind, much to our and Dick’s disappointment; but it could not be helped.”
“Dick,” echoed Archie, a little surprised at this familiarity and then he added, somewhat awkwardly, “I think I saw the young man and his father at the Library yesterday; and last night as I was coming from the station I encountered him again at your gate.”
“Yes, that was Dick,” answered Phillis, stooping a little over her work. “He is not handsome, poor fellow! but he is as nice as possible. They live at Longmead; that is next door to our dear old Glen Cottage, and the gardens adjoin. We call him Dick because we have known him all our lives, and he has been a sort of brother to us.”
“Oh, yes, I see,” drawled Archie, slowly. “That sort of thing is very nice when you have not a man belonging to you. It is a little awkward sometimes, for people do not always see this sort of relationship. He seemed a nice sort of fellow, I should say,” he continued, in his patronizing way, stroking his beard complacently. After all, the sandy-headed youth was no possible rival.
“Oh, Dick is ever so nice,” answered Phillis, enthusiastically; “not good enough for—” and then she stopped and broke her thread. “I am glad we are so fond of him,” she continued, rather hurriedly, “because Dick is to be our real brother some day. He and Nan have cared for each other all their lives, and, though Mr. Mayne is dreadfully angry about it, they consider themselves as good as engaged, and mean to live down his opposition. They came to an understanding yesterday,” finished Phillis, who was determined to bring it all out.
“Oh, indeed!” returned Archie: “that must be a great relief, I am sure. There is your little dog whining at the door; may I let him in?” And, without waiting for an answer, Archie had darted out in pursuit of Laddie, but not before Phillis’s swift upward glance had shown her a face that had grown perceptibly paler in the last few minutes.
“Oh, poor fellow! I was right!” thought Phillis, and the tears rushed to her eyes. “It was best to speak. I see that now; and he will get over it if he thinks no one knows it. How I wish I could help him! but it will never do to show the least sympathy: I have no right.” And here Phillis sighed, and her gray eyes grew dark with pain for a moment. Archie was rather a long time absent; and then he came back with Laddie in his arms, and stood by the window.
“Your news has interested me very much,” he said, and his voice was quite steady. “I suppose, as this—this engagement 239 is not public, I had better not wish your sister joy, unless you do it for me.”