“You must tell me, mother, or how can I ever help you?”
“I shall, only wait a minute until I am calm, for you must know—and you must save him!”
“I save him! What do you mean? What has happened to him?”
“You won't blame him? Promise me you won't be hard, now before I tell you. That you won't say of think unkind things of him? Promise me, promise me, Philip!” For he had hesitated.
“I promise, mother, for your sake.”
“No! no! for his own.”
“For his sake then. It is all one.”
“It is difficult to tell even you, Philip.”
He put his arms about her once more. “There, you don't mind me, you know,” he said tenderly. “Dear little mother, so brave and good, you really can't mean you mind me?”
It was in a hushed strained voice, as though she feared the shameful secret she had to confide would find a listener in the very air, that she told Philip of his brother's fall from grace.