This unimportance Ramsey recognized by diverting the
conversation so far as to announce that "mom-a" had just settled the
whole Phyllis business.
"Mighty nigh," the Californian admitted, answering Hugh's quiet glance,
while his heart praised the daughter's failure to credit him with his
share in the achievement, that being a thing still in progress, whose
design he had not fully revealed. The omission seemed to him most
maidenly and daughterly. He spoke on, to the two ladies:
"There's a thing or two more----"
"Oh, I'll pay that two hundred dollars!" cried Ramsey.
In animated approval her mother nodded to both.
"Not if the court knows itself," said the modest man, with so winsome a
smile that every one noticed how blue were his eyes. "I can trump that,"
he added, musingly.
"What's the other thing? You said a thing or two," asked Ramsey.
"Her wages, ain't it, for eleven years?"
"Ho, ho!" laughed madame in amiable scorn, while----
"Paid!" cried Ramsey. "Mrs. Gilmore's always paid her!"
"Knowin' she was a runaway? and who' from?"
Madame bowed sweetly, yet with an aroused sparkle.
"Humph!" said Ramsey, watching the boat back out and lay her course for
Island Thirty-five, "I'd have done as they did, either of them." She
stepped into the freshening breeze.
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