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ON HIS WAY THROUGH THE WORLD 169
pledged the young friends whom he saw assembled to cheer his
son on his onward path. He thanked them with a father's heart !
He passed his emerald ring across his eyes for a moment, and
lifted them to the ceiling, from which quarter he requested a blessing
on his boy. As though " spirits " approved of his invocation,
immense thumps came from above, along with the plaudits which
saluted the Doctor's speech from the gentlemen round the table.
But the upper thumps were derisory, and came from Mr. Buffers,
of the third floor, who chose this method of mocking our harmless
little festivities.
I think these cheers from the facetious Buffers, though meant
in scorn of our party, served to enliven it and make us laugh.
Spite of all the talking, we were dull ; and I could not but allow
the force of my neighbour's remark, that we were sat upon and
smothered by the old men. One or two of the younger gentlemen
chafed at the licence for tobacco-smoking not being yet accorded.
But Philip interdicted this amusement as yet.
"Don't," he said; "my father don't like it. He has to see
patients to-night ; and they can't bear the smell of tobacco by their
bedsides."
The impatient youths waited with their cigar-cases by their
sides. They longed for the withdrawal of the obstacle to their
happiness.
" He won't go, I tell you. He'll be sent for," growled Philip
to me.
The Doctor was engaged in conversation to the right and left
of him, and seemed not to think of a move. But, sure enough, at
a few minutes after ten o'clock, Dr. Firmin's footman entered the
room with a note, which Firmin opened and read, as Philip looked
at me with a grim humour in his face. I think Phil's father knew
that we knew he was acting. However, he went through the
comedy quite gravely.
"A physician's time is not his own," he said, shaking his handsome
melancholy head. " Good-bye, my dear Lord ! Pray remember
me at home ! Good-night, Philip my boy, and good speed
to you in your career ! Pray, pray don't move."
And he is gone, waving the fair hand and the broad-brimmed
hat, with the beautiful white lining. Phil conducted him to the
door, and heaved a sigh as it closed upon his father—a sigh of
relief, I think, that he was gone.
"Exit Governor. What's the Latin for Governor?" says Lord
Egham, who possessed much native humour, but not very profound
scholarship. "A most venerable old parent, Firmin. That hat
and appearance would command any sum of money."