No seaworthy excuse can be put forward for dear Philip's refusal to kiss his mother. Not a refusal exactly; but he burked the issue by asking to be allowed to read the announcement which had been drawn up for the Morning Post.
A very little research discovered the interesting document on Father's writing-table.
Mr. Philip read the announcement as duly set forth in the elegant maternal hand. He then sighed heavily; and then it was the Green Chartreuse at last began to play up to its reputation.
The young man folded up the announcement carefully, and placed it in his cigar case.
"Well, if you prefer to send it yourself—so long as it is sent, my dear boy."
"I hope you won't forget all about it, Philip," said the maternal one.
"But I am not going to send it," said the young man, all sweetness and simplicity.
Yes, pretty good work by the Green Chartreuse.
Dead silence.
Mother got the first gun into action.
Why wasn't dear Philip going to send it?
Dear Philip thought it was premature.
Mournful interlude on the tragic note. Warlock would not take kindly to delay, said Father in deep
