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112 THE ADVENTURES OF PHILIP
general invitation I had from his father for any Saturday and
Sunday when I would like to accompany Philip home.
Such an invitation is welcome to any schoolboy. To get away
from Smithfield, and show our best clothes in Bond Street, was
always a privilege. To strut in the Park on Sunday, and nod to the
other fellows who were strutting there too, was better than remaining
at school, " doing ' Diates aron,' " as the phrase used to be,
having that endless roast-beef for dinner, and hearing two sermons in
chapel. There may have been more lively streets in London than
Old Parr Street ; but it was pleasanter to be there than to look at
Goswell Street over Grey Friars wall ; and so the present biographer
and reader's very humble servant found Dr. Firmin's house an
agreeable resort. Mamma was often ailing, or, if well, went out
into the world with her husband; in either case, we boys had a
good dinner provided for us, with the special dishes which Phil
loved ; and after dinner we adjourned to the play, not being by any
means too proud to sit in the pit with Mr. Brice, the Doctor's confidential
man. On Sunday we went to church at Lady Whittlesca's,
and back to school in the evening ; when the Doctor almost always
gave us a fee. If he did not dine at home (and I own his absence
did not much damp our pleasure), Brice would lay a small enclosure
on the young gentlemen's coats, which we transferred to our pockets.
I believe schoolboys disdain fees in the present disinterested times.
Everything in Dr. Firmin's house was as handsome as might be,
and yet somehow the place was not cheerful. One's steps fell noiselessly
on the faded Turkey carpet ; the room was large, and all save
the dining-table in a dingy twilight. The picture of Mrs. Firmin
looked at us from the wall, and followed us about with wild violet eyes.
Philip Firmin had the same violet odd bright eyes, and the same
coloured hair of an auburn tinge ; in the picture it fell in long wild
masses over the lady's back as she leaned with bare arms on a harp.
Over the sideboard was the Doctor, in a black velvet coat and a fur
collar, his hand on a skull, like Hamlet. Skulls of oxen, horned,
with wreaths, formed the cheerful ornaments of the cornice. On the
side-table glittered a pair of cups, given by grateful patients, looking
like receptacles rather for funereal ashes than for festive flowers or
wine. Brice, the butler, wore the gravity and costume of an undertaker.
The footman stealthily moved hither and thither, bearing
the dinner to us ; we always spoke under our breath whilst we were
eating it. " The room don't look more cheerful of a morning when
the patients are sitting here, I can tell you," Phil would say ; indeed,
we could well fancy that it was dismal. The drawing-room had a
rhubarb-coloured flock paper (on account of the governor's attachment
to the shop, Master Phil said), a great piano, a harp smothered in