“No. I asked Perkins and he refused. If you like to write and tell him I’ve been here you can get me into a really fine old row.”
Mrs. Carey sat knitting with trembling hands. She was unused to scenes and they agitated her extremely.
“It would serve you right if I told him,” said Mr. Carey.
“If you like to be a perfect sneak you can. After writing to Perkins as you did you’re quite capable of it.”
It was foolish of Philip to say that, because it gave the Vicar exactly the opportunity he wanted.
“I’m not going to sit still while you say impertinent things to me,” he said with dignity.
He got up and walked quickly out of the room into his study. Philip heard him shut the door and lock it.
“Oh, I wish to God I were twenty-one. It is awful to be tied down like this.”
Aunt Louisa began to cry quietly.
“Oh, Philip, you oughtn’t to have spoken to your uncle like that. Do please go and tell him you’re sorry.”