"I'm very grateful." A smile came
into her tired eyes, a smile of pure happiness.
"Oh, I'm so glad."
XL
A few days later Mrs. Carey went to the station to see Philip off. She
stood at the door of the carriage, trying to keep back her tears. Philip
was restless and eager. He wanted to be gone.
"Kiss me once more," she said.
He leaned out of the window and kissed her. The train started, and she
stood on the wooden platform of the little station, waving her
handkerchief till it was out of sight. Her heart was dreadfully heavy, and
the few hundred yards to the vicarage seemed very, very long. It was
natural enough that he should be eager to go, she thought, he was a boy
and the future beckoned to him; but she--she clenched her teeth so that
she should not cry. She uttered a little inward prayer that God would
guard him, and keep him out of temptation, and give him happiness and good
fortune.
But Philip ceased to think of her a moment after he had settled down in
his carriage. He thought only of the future. He had written to Mrs. Otter,
the massiere to whom Hayward had given him an introduction, and had in
his pocket an invitation to tea on the following day. When he arrived in
Paris he had his luggage put on a cab and trundled off slowly through the
gay streets, over the bridge, and along the narrow ways of the Latin
Quarter.
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