“Thanks, I would rather stand.  I can take it all in better.”

“Well?” asked Bell, after a pause, looking saucily up at him.  “Was I right this morning?  Didn’t we look prettier then?”

“Infinitely.”

Bell colored rather angrily, and Phebe laughed outright.  Mr. De Forest favored her with a stare, chewed the end of his side-whiskers reflectively a moment, then deliberately walked over to her.  “Miss Lane, I believe.”

Phebe bowed, but somewhat stiffly.

“Excuse me,” continued De Forest, imperturbably.  “There doesn’t seem to be any one to introduce us, and we know perfectly well who we each are, you know, and I wanted to ask about a mutual friend of ours,—­Miss Vernor.”

Phebe brightened and softened instantly.  “Oh!” she exclaimed, dropping her work, “you know her? you have seen her? lately?”

“I know her, yes, quite well.  I saw her some weeks since.  I understood then that there was a little talk of her coming up here this summer.  One of those fearful children, Olly, or Hal, or some one of the superfluous young ones, was a little off condition,—­not very well, you know,—­and the doctor said he mustn’t go with the rest to the sea-shore, and she mentioned bringing him up here to recruit.  I heard her mention your name, too, and didn’t know but you might have heard something of it.”

“I have, I have!” cried Phebe, her face all aglow, “She is coming,—­she and Olly.  She is going to stay with me.  I wrote and begged her to.”

“Ah, that will be very pleasant for you.  Do you expect her soon?”

“To-morrow.”

“Ah!” Mr. De Forest ruminated silently a moment.  “She’ll be bored to death up here, won’t she?” he asked, presently.

“Then she can go home again,” replied Phebe, shortly.

“True, true,” said her companion, thoughtfully.  “I forgot that.  And she probably will.  It would be like her to go if it bored her.”

“Only there’s Olly,” said Phebe, grimly, the light fading out of her face a little.  “She’ll have to stay for him.”

“Oh, no.  She can put him to board somewhere and leave him.  Miss Vernor doesn’t concern herself overmuch with the young ones.  They are an awful nuisance to her.”

“She does every thing for them.  You can’t know her,” said Phebe, indignantly.  “Did you say you knew her well, Mr. De Forest?”

“I don’t remember just what I said, Miss Lane, but it would have been the truth if I did, and I generally speak the truth when it’s equally convenient.  Yes, I do know Miss Vernor very well, and I have worsted her in a great many arguments,—­you know her argumentative turn, perhaps?  If you will allow me, I will do myself the honor of calling upon her when she comes,—­and upon yourself, if I may have the pleasure.”

“Not if you come with the intention of putting Gerald out of conceit with Joppa.  I want her to stay a long, long time.”