not want anything
outre, it was a very respectable class of business, and when you had a
connection of that sort it wasn't worth while taking liberties with it.
Once or twice he spoke sharply to Philip; he thought the young man was
getting a bit above himself, because Philip's ideas did not always
coincide with his own.

"You jolly well take care, my fine young fellow, or one of these days
you'll find yourself in the street."

Philip longed to give him a punch on the nose, but he restrained himself.
After all it could not possibly last much longer, and then he would be
done with all these people for ever. Sometimes in comic desperation he
cried out that his uncle must be made of iron. What a constitution! The
ills he suffered from would have killed any decent person twelve months
before. When at last the news came that the Vicar was dying Philip, who
had been thinking of other things, was taken by surprise. It was in July,
and in another fortnight he was to have gone for his holiday. He received
a letter from Mrs. Foster to say the doctor did not give Mr. Carey many
days to live, and if Philip wished to see him again he must come at once.
Philip went to the buyer and told him he wanted to leave. Mr. Sampson was
a decent fellow, and when he knew the circumstances made no difficulties.
Philip said good-bye to the people in his department; the reason of his
leaving had spread among them in an exaggerated form, and they thought he
had come into a fortune. Mrs. Hodges had tears in her eyes when she shook
hands with him.

"I suppose we shan't often see you again," she said.

"I'm glad to get away from Lynn's," he answered.

It was strange, but he was actually sorry to leave these people whom he
thought he had loathed, and when he drove away from the house in
Harrington Street it was with no exultation. He had so anticipated the
emotions he would experience on this occasion that now he felt nothing: he
was as unconcerned as though he were going for a few days' holiday.

"I've got a rotten nature," he said to himself. "I look forward to things
awfully, and then when they come I'm always disappointed."

He reached Blackstable early in the afternoon. Mrs. Foster met him at the
door, and her face told him that his uncle was not yet dead.

"He's a little better today," she said. "He's got a wonderful
constitution."

She led him into the bed-room where Mr. Carey lay on his back. He gave
Philip a slight smile, in which was