Kate's under lip began to show the inner half. “Who says I encourage him?” “I do.” “What right have you?” “Haven't I seen you with my own eyes?” Kate grew defiant. “Well, and what if you have?” “Then you are a jade and a coquette.” The word hissed out like steam from a kettle. Kate saw it coming and took it full in the face. She felt an impulse to scream with laughter, so she seized her opportunity and cried. Philip's temper began to ebb. “That man would be a poor bargain, Kate, if he were twenty times the heir of Ballawhaine. Can't you gather from his conversation what his life and companions are? Of course it's nothing to me, Kate----” “No, it's nothing to you,” whimpered Kate, from behind both hands. “I've no right----” “Of course not; you've no right,” said Kate, and she stole a look sideways. “Only----” Philip did not see the glance that came from the corner of Kate's eye. “When a girl forgets a manly fellow, who happens to be abroad, for the first rascal that comes along with his dirty lands--” Down went the hands with an impatient fling. “What are his lands to me?” “Then it's my duty as a friend----” “Duty indeed! Just what every old busybody says.” Philip gripped her wrist. “Listen to me. If you don't send this man packing----” “You are hurting me. Let go my arm.” Philip flung it aside and said, “What do I care?” “Then why do you call me a coquette?” “Do as you like.” “So I will. Philip! Philip! Phil! He's gone.” It was twenty miles by coach and rail from Douglas to Sulby, but Philip was back at “The Manx Fairy” the next evening also. He found a saddle-horse linked to the gate-post and Ross inside the house with a riding-whip in his hand, beating the leg of his riding-breeches. When Philip appeared, Kate began to look alarmed, and Ross to look ugly. Cæsar, who was taking his tea in the ingle, was having an unpleasant passage with Grannie in side-breaths by the fire. “Bad, bad, a notorious bad liver and dirty with the tongue,” said Cæsar. “Chut, father!” said Grannie. “The young man's civil enough, and girls will be girls. What's a word or a look or a laugh when you're young and have a face that's fit for anything.” “Better her face should be pitted with smallpox than bring her to the pit of hell,” said Cæsar. “All flesh is grass: the grass withereth, the flower fadeth.” Nancy Joe came from the dairy at that moment. “Gracious me I did you see that now?” she said. “I wonder at Kitty. But it's the way of the men, smiling and smiling and maning nothing.” “Hm! They mane a dale,” growled Cæsar. Ross had recovered from his uneasiness at Philip's entrance, and was engaged in some narration whereof the only words that reached the kitchen were _I know_ and _I know_ repeated frequently. “You seem to know a dale, sir,” shouted Cæsar; “do you know what it is to be saved?”