"Well, good-bye, Miss Priscilla," said Philip, coming into the kitchen a few mornings afterward. "This landlubber life won't do for me any longer." Small Genevieve was at the sink washing dishes and Veronica was drying them. Miss Burridge slid her last loaf of bread into the oven and then stood up and faced him. "Philip Barrison," she said emphatically, "you have been a blessing for these weeks. I hate to see you go. Now, how much do I owe you for all the good things you've done for me?" Philip laughed and, throwing his arms around her, gave her a hearty smack on the cheek. "What do I owe you for popovers and corn fritters?" he rejoined. "Just don't let Veronica chew gum, nor let Genevieve flirt with Marley Hughes and we'll call it square." Genevieve turned up her little nose and giggled, and Veronica looked scornful. "Now, don't you tell me that Puppa liked it," he continued to her. "Besides, anybody that lives with your Aunt Pris has so many nicer things to chew there is no excuse. Oh, Miss Priscilla, how I hate to say adieu to the waffles!" "Well, you must come real often, Phil. I heard you was goin' to give us a concert at the hall sometime this summer. Is that so? I do hope you will." "I shouldn't wonder. My accompanist is coming to-day and we shall do a little work and a lot of fishing." "Is he a young feller? You must bring him up to play croquet with the girls." "Well, I don't know whether he has any experience as an Alpine climber or not." "Why, I don't think it's such an awful bad ground. Do you, Veronica?" "Not if he's real nice and hasn't any whiskers," replied the girl. "Heaven knows he'll be better than nothing. Such a place as this and not a beau! It's a crime." "How about me?" inquired Philip modestly. Veronica lifted her upper lip disdainfully. "Oh, you, with your lectures and your goddesses! What earthly good are you?" "Cr-rushed!" exclaimed Philip. "Talked to Mrs. Lowell all last evening on the piazza in that lovely moonlight. The idea of wasting it on a _Mrs._ I suppose there's a _Mr._ to her." "Yes, and he's coming before the summer is over. The worst of it is she seems to like him." "Children, children," said Miss Burridge, and she winked toward the back of Genevieve's head. Well she knew the alertness of the ears that were holding back those tight braids of hair. "Yes, my accompanist, Barney, is a broth of a boy, but I shall tell him, Veronica, that ten o'clock is the limit, the very extreme limit." The girl flushed and laughed. "You mind your business now, Mr. Barrison, and I'll attend to mine. I'm perfectly capable of it." "Very well. I'll simply keep Puppa's address on my desk, and I won't use it unless I really have to," said Phil, in a conscientious tone which nearly caused Veronica to throw a cup at him.