d.

The days were unending, and the five shillings Lawson had lent him would
not last much longer. Philip longed for Sunday to come so that he could go
to Athelny's. He did not know what prevented him from going there sooner,
except perhaps that he wanted so badly to get through on his own; for
Athelny, who had been in straits as desperate, was the only person who
could do anything for him. Perhaps after dinner he could bring himself to
tell Athelny that he was in difficulties. Philip repeated to himself over
and over again what he should say to him. He was dreadfully afraid that
Athelny would put him off with airy phrases: that would be so horrible
that he wanted to delay as long as possible the putting of him to the
test. Philip had lost all confidence in his fellows.

Saturday night was cold and raw. Philip suffered horribly. From midday on
Saturday till he dragged himself wearily to Athelny's house he ate
nothing. He spent his last twopence on Sunday morning on a wash and a
brush up in the lavatory at Charing Cross.

CI

When Philip rang a head was put out of the window, and in a minute he
heard a noisy clatter on the stairs as the children ran down to let him
in. It was a pale, anxious, thin face that he bent down for them to kiss.
He was so moved by their exuberant affection that, to give himself time to
recover, he made excuses to linger on the stairs. He was in a hysterical
state and almost anything was enough to make him cry. They asked him why
he had not come on the previous Sunday, and he told them he had been ill;
they wanted to know what was the matter with him; and Philip, to amuse
them, suggested a mysterious ailment, the name of which, double-barrelled
and barbarous with its mixture of Greek and Latin (medical nomenclature
bristled with such), made them shriek with delight. They dragged Philip
into the parlour and made him repeat it for their father's edification.
Athelny got up and shook hands with him. He stared at Philip, but with his
round, bulging eyes he always seemed to stare, Philip did not know why on
this occasion it made him self-conscious.

"We missed you last Sunday," he said.

Philip could never tell lies without embarrassment, and he was scarlet
when he finished his explanation for not coming. Then Mrs. Athelny entered
and shook hands with him.

"I hope you're better, Mr. Carey," she said.

He did not know why she imagined that anything had been the matter with
him, for the