"How I wish you were coming, Philip," she said,
flattered at the unwonted notice her brother-in-law was
giving her.

"I wish I were." He could have managed it without great
difficulty, for his career at the Bar was not so intense as
to prevent occasional holidays. But his family disliked his
continual visits to the Continent, and he himself often
found pleasure in the idea that he was too busy to leave town.

"Good-bye, dear every one. What a whirl!" She caught
sight of her little daughter Irma, and felt that a touch of
maternal solemnity was required. "Good-bye, darling. Mind
you're always good, and do what Granny tells you."

She referred not to her own mother, but to her
mother-in-law, Mrs. Herriton, who hated the title of Granny.

Irma lifted a serious face to be kissed, and said
cautiously, "I'll do my best."

"She is sure to be good," said Mrs. Herriton, who was
standing pensively a little out of the hubbub. But Lilia
was already calling to Miss Abbott, a tall, grave, rather
nice-looking young lady who was conducting her adieus in a
more decorous manner on the platform.

"Caroline, my Caroline! Jump in, or your chaperon will
go off without you."