Ross had resumed his conversation with Kate, who was looking frightened. And listening with all his ears, Philip caught the substance of what was said.
“I'm due back by this time. There's the supper at Handsome Honey's, not to speak of the everlasting examinations. But somehow I can't tear myself away. Why not? Can't you guess? No? Not a notion? I would go to-morrow—Kitty, a word in your ear——”
“I believe in my heart that man is for kissing her,” said Cæsar. “If he does, then by—he's done it! Hould, sir.”
Cæsar had risen to his feet, and in a moment the house was in an uproar. Ross lifted his head like a cock. “Were you speaking to me, mister?” he asked.
“I was, and don't demane yourself like that again,” said Cæsar.
“Like what?” said Ross.
“Paying coort to a girl that isn't fit for you.”
Ross lifted his hat, “Do you mean this young lady?”
“No young lady at all, sir, but the daughter of a plain, respectable man that isn't going to see her fooled. Your hat to your head, sir. You'll be wanting it for the road.”
“Father!” cried Kate, in a voice of fear.