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198 THE ADVENTURES OF PHILIP
object of this delusion, and, indeed, it very strangely and tenderly
affects him. He remembers fitfully the illness through which the
Little Sister tended him, the wild paroxysms of his fever, his head
throbbing on her shoulders—cool tamarind drinks which she applied
to his lips—great gusty night shadows flickering through the bare
school dormitory—the little figure of the nurse gliding in and out
of the dark. He must be aware of the recognition, which we know
of, and which took place at his bedside, though he has never
mentioned it—not to his father, not to Caroline. But he clings to
the woman, and shrinks from the man. Is it instinctive love and
antipathy ? The special reason for his quarrel with his father the
junior Firmin has never explicitly told me then or since. I have
known sons much more confidential, and who, when their fathers
tripped and stumbled, would bring their acquaintances to jeer at
the patriarch in his fall.
One day, as Philip enters Thornhaugh Street, and the Sister's
little parlour there, fancy his astonishment on finding his father's
dingy friend, the Reverend Tufton Hunt, at his ease by the fireside.
" Surprised to see me here, eh ?" says the dingy gentleman, with a
sneer at Philip's lordly face of wonder and disgust. " Mrs. Brandon
and I turn out to be very old friends."
"Yes, sir, old acquaintances," says the Little Sister, very
gravely.
"The Captain brought me home from the club at the 'Byng.'
Jolly fellows the Byngs. My service to you, Mr. Gann and Mrs.
Brandou." And the two persons addressed by the gentleman, who
is "taking some refreshment," as the phrase is, made a bow in
acknowledgment of this salutation.
"You should have been at Mr. Philip's call-supper, Captain
Gann," the divine resumes. " That was a night ! Tiptop swells—
noblemen—first-rate claret. That claret of your father's, Philip, is
pretty nearly drunk down. And your song was famous. Did you
ever hear him sing, Mrs. Brandon ?"
" Who do you mean by him ? " says Philip, who always boiled
with rage before this man.
Caroline divines the antipathy. She lays a little hand on
Philip's arm. " Mr. Hunt has been having too much, I think," she
says. " I did know him ever so long ago, Philip !"
" What does he mean by Him ?" again says Philip, snorting at
Tufton Hunt.
" Him ?—Dr. Luther's Hymn ! ' Wein, Weib, und Gesang,' to
be sure !" cries the clergyman, humming the tune. " I learned it
in Germany myself—passed a good deal of time in Germany,
Captain Gann—six months in a specially shady place—Quod