suit and white straw sailor hat, stood for Church, and order, and the accepted sacraments.
Phœbe stared, too, in gaping consternation. As Mr. Ramsey, having stood his wheel against the rail of the verandah, filled the doorway with his well-knit figure, she went towards him, hot water kettle in hand.
"Oh, sir," she cried, "I hope as you haven't come here to talk about columbines and such! Because Mr. Vale reely don't deserve it. If ever there was a well-meaning young man it's him, and, as I said to Hughie, a gentleman must have a margin if it's ever so." She would have proceeded, even more recklessly, but a dribble of scalding water from the kettle she held fell on her woolen slipper and brought her up with an exclamation of pain.
"Phœbe," said Derek, desperately, "please go to the kitchen and shut the door after you."
Phœbe, feeling that she was in disgrace, hurried from the room, and, tripping once more over the doorsill, was precipitated into the kitchen. Snailem caught her, and carefully closed the door upon them.
Mr. Ramsey turned with a cheerful smile to Derek. "Quite a character, that girl," he said. "Most amusing. I was positive she was going to baptize me with that boiling water. . . . How nice and cool you are here. It's frightful out of doors."
"Won't you sit down?" said Derek, regaining his outward composure, "and have some breakfast? You're out early." He looked at Fawnie anxiously, and she, meeting his eyes, divined that he would be rid of her. With an odd dignity, she stood up in her narrow blue dress, and said in her low voice, "I guess I take my tea and scone upstairs and finish it there, eh?"
"Thanks, Fawnie," said Derek; and Mr. Ramsey with
