Amzi was observing the new facade that had been tacked onto the building, when Phil drove up in the machine. This was the afternoon of the 3d of July. Phil and her father were camping for a week in their old haunt in Turkey Run, and she had motored into town to carry Amzi to his farm, where he meant to spend the Glorious Fourth in the contemplation of the wheat Fred had been harvesting. Phil had experienced a blow-out on her way to town, a fact to which the state of her camping clothes testified. "Thunder!" said Amzi; "you look as though you had crawled halfway in." "A naughty nail in a bridge plank was the sinner," she explained. She jumped out and was admiring the alterations, which had eliminated the familiar steps to the old room, when Mrs. Waterman emerged from a neighboring shop. "You dear Phil!" she cried effusively. "I've been wanting to see you for _weeks_!" Her aunt caught and held the brown hand Phil had drawn from her battered gauntlet. "Father and I are out at the Run," Phil explained. These were the first words she had exchanged with either of her aunts since Christmas. She was not particularly interested in what her Aunt Josephine might have to say, though somewhat curious as to why that lady should be saying anything at all. "I can't talk here," Mrs. Waterman continued, seeing that Amzi lingered in the bank door. "But there are things I want to discuss with you, Phil, dear." Main Street is hot on July afternoons; and Phil was impatient to get back to the cool hollows of the Run. "Oh, any time, Aunt Josie," she replied hastily. "It's only fair--to myself, and to Fanny and to Kate, for me to say to you that we never meant--we never had the slightest intention--in regard to your dear mother--" "Oh, don't trouble about that!" said Phil. "Mamma never minded! And please excuse me; Amy's waiting." She nodded good-bye, and walked through the bank to the new directors' room where Amzi was subjecting himself to the breezes of an electric fan. "Indian!" "I haven't mussed you," observed Phil, placing her gloves on the new mahogany table, "since you started up the new bank. It's about time we were celebrating." He threw up his arms to ward off the threatened attack, and when he opened his eyes and peered out she was sitting on the table with the demurest of expressions upon her countenance. "False alarm; only I object to your comments on my complexion. I'm some burnt; but as it isn't painful to me, the rest of creation needn't worry." "Well, you needn't kick the legs of that table with your sneakers; that table cost money!" "Really! Woeful extravagance. Did you see Aunt Josephine holding my hand?" "I did," replied Amzi. "What's eating Josie?" "She seemed to want to kiss and make up. I excused myself owing to the heat of the day." "Humph! I'll tell you something, Phil, if you'll sit in a chair and be nice." She sat in a chair and was nice.