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252 THE ADVENTURES OP PHILIP
quake was driving them—the sea walks up into the lodging-houses
—and Philip's legs are failing from under him: it is only for a
moment. When you have a large tough double tooth out, doesn't
the chair go up to the ceiling, and your head come off too ? But, in
the next instant, there is a grave gentleman before you, making
you a bow, and concealing something in his right sleeve. The
crash is over. You are a man again. Philip clutches hold of the
chain-pier for a minute : it does not sink under him. The houses,
after reeling for a second or two, reassume the perpendicular, and
bulge their bow-windows towards the main. He can see the people
looking from the windows, the carriages passing, Professor Spurrier
riding on the cliff with eighteen young ladies, his pupils. In longafter
days he remembers those absurd little incidents with a curious
tenacity.
" This news," Philip says, " was not—not altogether unexpected.
I congratulate my cousin, I am sure. Captain Woolcomb, had I
known this for certain, I am sure I should not have interrupted
you. You were going, perhaps, to ask me to your hospitable house,
Mrs. Penfold ?"
" Was she though ?" cries the Captain.
" I have asked a friend to dine with me at the ' Bedford,' and
shall go to town, I hope, in the morning. Can I take anything for
you, Agnes ? Good-bye :" and he kisses his hand in quite a dégagé
manner, as Mrs. Penfold's chair turns eastward and he goes to the
west. Silently the tall Agnes sweeps along, a fair hand laid upon
her friend's chair.
It's over! it's over! She has done it. He was bound, and
kept his honour, but she did not: it was she who forsook him.
And I fear very much Mr. Philip's heart leaps with pleasure and
an immense sensation of relief at thinking he is free. He meets
half-a-dozen acquaintances on the cliff. He laughs, jokes, shakes
hands, invites two or three to dinner in the gayest manner. He
sits down on that green, not very far from his inn, and is laughing
to himself, when he suddenly feels something nestling at his knee
—rubbing, and nestling, and whining plaintively. " What, is that
you?" It is little Brownie, who has followed him. Poor little
rogue !
Then Philip bent down his head over the dog, and as it jumped
on him, with little bleats, and whines, and innocent caresses, he
broke out into a sob, and a great refreshing rain of tears fell from
his eyes. Such a little illness ! Such a mild fever ! Such a speedy
cure ! Some people have the complaint so mildly that they are
scarcely ever kept to their beds. Some bear its scars for ever.
Philip sat resolutely at the hotel all night, having given special