Heaven be praised, the good times were come again. Now he was all for the
return of the prodigal, without conditions--"and no questions asked," as
he put it.
But in this he could not get his dear desire. Philippa's sense of justice
was inflamed, as well as her moral sense. What! you eat a cake, and then,
instead of sitting down to your plain bread and butter--away you flounce,
and get ready to eat another cake! That's dead against the proverb, that's
monstrous, that's offensive. "Mamma, mamma," Philippa had protested, "you
can never have her back to flourish her sin in all our faces."
"Thank you, Philippa, for reminding me, however gratuitously, of my duties
to society," had been Mrs. Percival's acknowledgment. She liked sin as
little as Philippa, but she liked being lectured a great deal less. Poor
Mr. Percival had pulled his whiskers throughout the debate, and now sighed
as he bit them. His girl was to be denied him--but he could give her two
hundred a year, and go to see her often. That was comfort.
And then the meeting took place. First with Mamma, who had never liked
her, and was now a little afraid of what she might do. For Philippa had
made it quite plain that if Sanchia was not humoured, she would have
nothing to say to Ingram.
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