Page:Emma Speed Sampson--The shorn lamb.djvu/72

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68
The Shorn Lamb

body in the country knew of the grim, caustic wit of the old man and the pride of the daughters of the house and the stolid slowness of Spottswood. The Taylors were important persons, and no matter how much they might hold themselves aloof from their neighbors, their neighbors always managed to know much more about them and their affairs than they relished having known.

Philip remembered as a boy how he had hated to go to Mill House with a message, how the master had always made him feel small and uncomfortable, addressing him with a pretense of politeness, but plainly letting him understand his inferiority. The Taylors' conviction of their own superiority did not at all worry Philip Bolling, the man. If he had not felt so sorry for his little traveling companion he would have been amused by the present situation, but concern for her was uppermost in his mind just now.

"To what fortunate circumstance do we owe this visit?" asked Major Taylor, who had managed to swallow the sob and assume his usual sarcastic manner. "Won't you be seated?"

"No, I thank you," answered Philip, quietly. He had none of the feeling of the little barefoot boy with a message from his father about the