“Oh, mother, mother, whatever will I do without ye?” he sobbed; and the old clergyman, coming in at this moment, laid his hand on the boy’s fair curls.
“I pray God to forgive me for having so long neglected that noble woman,” he said solemnly, “and with His help I will try to be a father to her boy.”
Chapter VIII
A Great Change
AFTER the victims of the disaster had been buried in the village churchyard, Philip bade farewell to the little cottage which he had called home, and a great lump gathered in his throat as he turned from the scene of so many happy days, realizing that the past was now a closed book, and that he belonged henceforth to his father’s people. He lay back listlessly in the carriage beside Mrs. Norton, his eyes closed, and a great round tear rolling now and then down his pale, sad little face. Dash, who was his greatest comforter, lay snuggled up close beside him on the seat, his watchful eyes fastened[107] intently on his young master, whose grief he seemed fully to understand and appreciate. Mrs. Norton said but little to the sorrowful boy, but she made him as comfortable as possible with cushions and shawls, and once or twice she pressed his hand with tender sympathy. There had been some discussion as to where Philip’s home should be henceforth, but Aunt Delia had urged her claim for her dear dead nephew’s boy so warmly that it was decided that for the present at least he should stop at the rectory.
The surprise of Marion Norton and her sisters was unbounded when they had heard as much of Philip’s story as it was thought best to tell them, and great was their curiosity to see this new cousin, of whose existence, even, they had never heard before, and who was suddenly to be introduced to the family circle. They held many discussions among themselves concerning him.
“He is just about your age,” said Marion to Rose and Lillie, her two younger sisters.
“Then he is eleven,” said Rose, with dignity.
“Yes, but what do you think? Peter says he does not know how to read.”