Joy was awakened from hers by Phyllis' voice, raised in surprise.
"But, Miss _Addison!_" she was saying, on the porch below Joy's
window, in a tone that was part amusement, part horror.
Joy slipped on her frock and shoes and ran down to share the
excitement. When she got down, Phyllis was just leading the visitor
into the old Colonial living-room, and they were having tea brought
in. Philip was nowhere to be seen.
"A _wheel_barrow!" Phyllis was saying tragically, as she took
her cup from the waitress, who was listening interestedly, if
furtively.
"A wheelbarrow," assented Miss Addison, a pretty, white-haired
spinster. She, too, took a cup.
Phyllis cast up her eyes in horror and, incidentally, saw Joy.
"Come in," she said resignedly. "I'm just hearing how Philip
disported himself at his 'lunchun.'"
"I didn't mean to distress you, but I really thought you should
know, Mrs. Harrington," pursued the visitor plaintively.
"I'm eternally grateful," murmured Phyllis, beginning, as usual, to
be overcome with the funny side of the situation. "But--oh, Joy,
what _do_ you think of my sinful offspring? Miss Addison says
Philip spent the luncheon hour relating to her how his father went
to the saloon in the village, had two glasses of beer, was entirely
overcome, and had to be brought home in--in--" by this time Phyllis
was laughing uncontrollably--"in a _wheel_barrow!"
Joy, too, was aghast for a moment, then the situation became too
much for her, and she also began to laugh.
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