The photographs were pinned on the wall, the few books and ornaments took their places on the extemporized shelves and on the table, which, thanks to Mrs.Hope, was no longer bare, but hidden by a big square of red canton flannel.

There was almost always a little bunch of flowers from the Wade greenhouses, which were supposed to come from Mrs.Wade; and altogether the effect was cosey, and the little interior looked absolutely pretty, though the result was attained by such very simple means.
Phil thought it heavenly to be by themselves and out of the reach of strangers.

Everything tasted delicious; all the arrangements pleased him; never was boy so easily suited as he for those first few weeks at No.

13.
"You're awfully good to me, Clover," he said one night rather suddenly, from the depths of his rocking-chair.
The remark was so little in Phil's line that it quite made her jump.
"Why, Phil, what made you say that ?" she asked.
"Oh, I don't know.

I was thinking about it.