“My boy! My dear boy! My boy's boy! My own boy's own boy!”
Philip freed himself at length, and went upstairs without turning his head, and then Auntie Nan saw Pete standing in the doorway.
“Is it you, Pete?” she said with an effort. “Won't you come in for a moment? No?”
“A minute only, then—just to wish you joy, Miss Christian, ma'am,” said Pete.
“And you, too, Peter. Ah!” she said, with a bird-like turn of the head, “you must be a proud man to-night, Pete.”
“Proud isn't the word for it, ma'am—I'm clane beside myself.”
“He took a fancy to you when you were only a little barefooted boy, Pete.”
“So he did, ma'am.”
“And now that he's Deemster itself he owns you still.”
“Aw, lave him alone for that, ma'am.”