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She thought constantly of Mary, and had many small anxieties about her her dress, her manners, her health; she even took the child into Old Chester one day to get William King to pull a little loose white tooth. Philly shook very much during the operation and mingled her tears with Mary's in that empty and bleeding moment that follows the loss of a tooth.
"It isn't right to read them to the child," she thought; "it's a foolish book, Mary," she said, aloud. "I never saw such a book." "I'll bring it the next time I come," Mary promised. "Oh no, no," Philly said, a little breathlessly; "it's a wrong book. I couldn't read such a book, except except to tell you how foolish and wrong it is."
Nobody better loved a gentle tale of scandal, to sweeten a quiet cup of tea. Nobody evinced a finer talent for picking up whatever news happened to be stirring, or greater liberality in its diffusion. She was the intelligencer of the place a walking chronicle. In a word, Miss Philly Firkin was certainly a prosperous, and, as times go, a tolerably happy woman.
There was something in Cousin Helen's face and manner, which made the children at home with her at once. Even Philly, who had backed away with his hands behind him, after staring hard for a minute or two, came up with a sort of rush to get his share of kissing. Still, Katy's first feeling was one of disappointment. Cousin Helen was not at all like "Lucy," in Mrs. Sherwood's story.
Oh, Ken, it's a hundred and twenty-five dollars a week! Why, we're we're millionaires!" Ken had found his breath, and his reason. "What a little lightning calculator!" he said. "Don't go so fast, Philly; why, your castle scrapes the clouds!
Sometimes Miss Philly would look up at the careworn young face in the pulpit and think how holy Mary's brother was, and how learned and how shabby; for he had only a housekeeper, Mrs. Semple, to take care of him and Mary. Not but what he might have had somebody besides Mrs. Semple! Philippa, for all her innocence, could not help being aware that he might have had almost anybody!
Very slowly they all went down stairs, Katy leaning on Papa, with Dorry on her other side, and the girls behind, while Philly clattered ahead. And there were Debby and Bridget and Alexander, peeping out of the kitchen door to watch her, and dear old Mary with her apron at her eyes crying for joy. "Oh, the front door is open!" said Katy, in a delighted tone. "How nice! And what a pretty oil-cloth.
"Oh, come now, lean on that old thing! Why she couldn't support a postage stamp standing edgewise, as the man says in the play. Do you suppose I don't know how you have to look out for her and do everything? She's not a bit of use." "Yes; but you and I have got to be polite to her, Philly. We mustn't forget that." "Oh, I'll be polite enough, if she will just leave us alone," retorted Phil.
For they had found Philly and Alice and Frane, Junior, rather trying. Not having their childish imaginations so well developed as the six little Bunkers had, the children of the plantation were altogether too matter-of-fact. Many childish plays that the Bunkers enjoyed did not appeal to their little hosts at all.
Julius sounds like you was an old Roman or something, and in the business you got to have a good easy name. Say, speaking of that, I ain't with Lowry any more; I'm chief salesman for the Ætna Automobile Varnish and Wax Company. I certainly got a swell territory New York, Philly, Bean-Town, Washi'nun, Balt'more, Cleveland, Columbus, Akron, and so on, and of course most especially Detroit.
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