“There’s Phil!” said Cathalina joyously, though Hilary noticed at once how quiet was her voice and manner. “I guess they don’t shout across the street at each other in New York,” she thought with her usual humor.
“My brother, Hilary,” and Hilary looked up into the smiling face of Philip Van Buskirk Junior. The checks were passed over to the chauffeur, Hilary received a confused impression of the big station, and then found herself being helped into a comfortable, warm car and tucked in rugs by this same handsome host who kept up a good-humored flow of conversation with Cathalina. She was one question mark at first, according to Phil, who gave her an account of himself and the family as she inquired. Hilary was too much interested in the sights and sounds of the city to say an unnecessary word.
“The streets are in pretty good shape considering the snow we’ve had,” Philip was saying.
“It isn’t so cold today either,” added Cathalina. “O, dear old New York! I’m so glad to be home again!”
“And how glad Mother and Father will be to have you, Cat, nobody but me—”
“O, please don’t call me that, Phil! I did hope that none of the girls would ever hear that nickname!” Cathalina gave Hilary an imploring look.
Hilary responded nobly. “I’ll never tell, or call you that myself,” she declared.
“Kathleen, then,” said Phil, laughing. “Is that better?”
“Yes; and if it _is_ sentimental I like it best when you call me Kathleen Mavourneen.”
“O, that’s just because it makes me think of the song, you know,” and Phil looked at Cathalina teasingly. But Cathalina slipped her arm through his and he patted her hand.
Hilary was quite impressed and wondered if either of her brothers could ever be as much like her father as Philip was like Mr. Van Buskirk. “It doesn’t look much like it now,” she thought, recalling the often grimy hands and boisterous speech of Gordon and Tom. Stealing a glance at Philip, she concluded that he did not look like a “sissy-boy” either, and that the little chaps would change when the time came. She felt as if she were in a dream as she was whirled along to stop before a fine mansion in a picturesque setting of snow-covered shrubbery and trees.
The two girls tripped up the steps, Philip following to ring the bell for them. “Sorry not to stop now,” said he, “but Father has a matter for me to look after as soon as possible.” Touching his hat, Philip started back to the car as the smiling Watts opened the door and received the bags from the chauffeur.