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Now tell me something about your friends. Who are they?" "I haven't any here. Mr. Halloway is quite right," answered Phebe, locking her hands over one of Mrs. Whittridge's. "Not real, real friends.
But as regards the fact, there is my hand, I am quite of your way of thinking! I am persuaded an angel's voice got into Soeur Angélique by mistake." Mrs. Whittridge's baptismal name was Angelica, but to her brother she had always been "Soeur Angélique" and nothing else. "Yes, and an angel's soul too," said Phebe. "Even that," replied Mr. Halloway.
And in the second place, I feel it my duty to warn you from a habit of canonization, which, if too extensively indulged in, will inevitably warp your powers of frank and right judgment." Phebe laughed, but did not forget. One afternoon, some time later, she was at the rectory, whither she had gone, at Mrs. Whittridge's request, to explain a new and intricate embroidery stitch.
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