you Philip?" she said at about the fourth puff. "Your name is such a long one, isn't it?"
The heir to the barony was bound to admit that his name was long, and that even Philip was shorter when it became Phil.
"Wouldn't Phil be just a little familiar, considering that we have only known each other a week?"
"I seem to have known you for years and years and years."
"Well, if you really mean that, Philip, I don't think there is any reason why it shouldn't be Phil. But you mustn't go beyond Mary, you know. There is only one other person outside the family who calls me Polly, because somehow I object to Polly on principle. And you'll never be able to guess who that is."
"Mr. Vandeleur?"
"Dear no—of all people. I am a perfectly ferocious Rag."
"Well, I hope it isn't—?"
"—Be careful, Philip. Very dangerous ground. But, no, it isn't he. The only other person who is allowed to call me Polly is the Lessee and Manager of the Royal Italian Opera House, Blackhampton."
A sudden pang of consternation went through the heart of Mr. Philip. There was a confounded ring on her finger!
"Goose," said Mary, amused not a little by the course
