Phyllis by Maria Thompson Daviess
page 36 of 160 (22%)
page 36 of 160 (22%)
|
Rogers, that whatever Miss Phyllis says in my office is strictly
business and is to be observed as absolutely confidential." As Rogers went out of the door I felt my heart sink in a queer way, and I turned to find Father looking at me sternly. "Phil," he said, in the tone of voice I feel sure fathers use to their errant sons, "if you have another person's secret to guard, do it carefully and do not let the excitement of the moment make you let it slip." "Oh, Father," I fairly gasped, "did I tell you anything about Mr. Douglass's secret that I ought not?" "You told about all you know, daughter; but fortunately you didn't know enough to do much damage. I happen to know I can trust Rogers as myself. Now, go to your pie fixings, for I'm unusually busy." I turned to the door with a queer sinking feeling coming up in me when he called me back again. "Of course, Phil, you know what a pleasure it is to me for you to shower apples on the Byrds and others, and I want to speak to you about a little matter that is troubling me and ask your help. We have got to spend some money in Byrdsville, and you must help me to do it. I can't get Henri to buy his supplies for the kitchen here, under any circumstances--he shrugs his French shoulders, gives me two uneatable meals, and orders from New York as usual. I can't very well wear Byrdsville clothes myself, and there seems no way to drop cash in the town unless you can find some way. Buy things at all the stores and |
|