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 and there was hardly anything in it to speak of, was, considering all things, in surprisingly good taste.

"Why, Mater, this is awfully sweet of you," said the manly voice of Mr. Philip.

Salutations of a filial and unaffected character. The young man was really not deep enough to be wary. All was about to be forgiven, evidently, else the good old mater would not be calling upon 'em. Nevertheless, a little surprise was in store for this optimist. Mary, whose amiable custom it was to meet the whole world a little more than half way, did not exactly throw herself into the arms of Mother.

Mother, moreover, did not exactly cast herself upon the neck of Mary.

They chose to shake hands rather than have recourse to any less formal style of reception.

"So nice of you, Lady Shelmerdine, to find your way up to our little foot in the air."

It was said very cool and smiling, but if the young minx had left it unsaid it would have been just as well, perhaps, since somehow it didn't seem to help things particularly.

"The art furniture is more comfortable than it looks, Lady Shelmerdine," said the young Madam archly. "Try this one. Don't you like our yellow wall-paper? Phil-ipp's taste is so wonderful. Will you have some tea?"