WHITEWASH
be able safely to transfer it, and the directions she had received for its disposal.
She was on the point of getting out of bed to make sure that the box was still there, when she distinguished her aunt's step in the hall, and quickly sank back among her lace-frilled pillows.
Mrs. Ford did not give herself the trouble of knocking, but marched magnificently into the sanctuary of beauty. She was clad in a walking-suit of a military cut and many brass buttons, and was even more than usual the drum-major. Her face suggested court-martial, however, and Philippa winced. The aunt stood for a moment by the bed, and regarded the niece with cold-blooded appraisal.
"You are a good-looking girl," she remarked, at length; "and I have made considerable sacrifices of my comfort, as a speculation on your chances. But it seems you are a fool!—and so am I, for believing in you."
Philippa rolled over, and presented a view of her back.
"I am informed that there was a scene here
