“I know I shall love you, dearly! dearly!” cried Philly, and put her arms around mother’s neck as the latter stooped over her.
Dao Singh made a low obeisance. Mother looked rather startled at him and then turned to me.
“Dao Singh,” I explained, “has had much care of Phillis since she was little. He insists upon attending upon her——”
“And upon the Webb Sahib,” concluded the Hindoo, gravely. “It is well that the little Memsahib and Webb Sahib, come in health to Her Ladyship, on whom be peace and health. Dao Singh is her servant.”
He bent low again, took up the hem of my mother’s voluminous summer dress, and pressed it to his forehead. Mother looked amazed, and well she might—a new daughter and such a kingly serving person thrust upon her so unexpectedly. I had to laugh.
“Your Ladyship will get used to it in time. As a man before the mast in an old windjammer, being served by an oriental prince has its drawbacks; but you’ll get used to it, Little Mum!”
But mother’s interest was soon fixed entirely upon Phillis, and with her hand upon the child’s shoulder, she urged her up the steps. There Chester Downes was hanging about, eager to be noticed, anxious to come into the picture.
“Your Uncle Chester, Clinton,” said mother, “has been so kind to me while you were away.”
I said nothing. She glanced from my face to his, and then back again, and her lips began to tremble.
“Oh! I hoped that you would meet him differently now, Clinton,” she said.