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218 THE ADVENTURES OF PHILIP
She took him into her little room. She was pleased with the
gallantry of the boy. She liked to see him just now standing
over her enemy, courageous, victorious, her champion. " La ! how
savage he did look ; and how brave and strong you are ! But the
little wretch ain't fit to stand before such as you !" And she passed
her little hand down his arm, of which the muscles were all in a
quiver from the recent skirmish.
" What did the scoundrel mean by calling me bastard ?" said
Philip, the wild blue eyes glaring round about with more than
ordinary fierceness.
"Nonsense, dear! Who minds anything he says, that beast?
His language is always horrid ; he's not a gentleman. He had had
too much this morning when he was here. What matters what he
says ? He won't know anything about it to-morrow. But it was
kind of ray Philip to rescue his poor little nurse, wasn't it ? Like
a novel. Come in, and let me make you some tea. Don't go
to no more smoking: you have had enough. Come in and talk
to me."
And, as a mother, with sweet pious face, yearns to her little
children from her seat, she fondles him, she watches him ; she fills
her tea-pot from her singing kettle. She talks—talks in her homely
way, and on this subject and that. It is a wonder how she prattles
on, who is generally rather silent. She won't see Phil's eyes, which
are following her about very strangely and fiercely. And when
again he mutters, " What did he mean by ________ " "La, my dear,
how cross you are ! " she breaks out. " It's always so ; you won't
be happy without your cigar. Here's a cheroot, a beauty ! Pa
brought it home from the club. A China captain gave him some.
You must light it at the little end. There !" And if I could draw
the picture which my mind sees of her lighting Phil's cheroot for
him, and smiling the while, the little innocent Delilah coaxing and
wheedling this young Samson, I know it would be a pretty picture.
I wish Ridley would sketch it for me.
*