tful young companion, full of
interest in everything, that he had been. Perhaps he was on his good
behaviour, on his dignity, bent upon showing how much of a man he was
and how little influenced by passing sentiments, as some boys do. Anyhow
it was certain that he was much less agreeable in his self-subdued
condition. But John was fortunately much interested in the discussion,
in which, indeed, he took himself a slight part, and, save for a passing
wonder and the disappointment of the moment, did not occupy himself so
very much with Pippo. When he looked into the corner, however, in a lull
of the debate, when one of those fools who rush in at unguarded moments,
when the Speaker chances to look their way, had managed to get upon his
foolish feet to the despair of all around, the experienced man of the
world received a curious shock from the sight of young Philip's intense
gravity, and the self-absorbed, unconscious look he wore. The boy had
the look of hearing nothing, seeing nothing that was around him, of
being lost in thoughts of his own, thoughts far too serious and troubled
for his age. Had he discovered something? What did he know? This was the
instinctive question that rose in John's mind, and not an amused
anticipation of Pippo's original boyish view of the question and the
speakers, such as had delighted him on the boy's previous visits to the
House. And indeed Philip's attention was little fixed upon the debate.
He tried hard to bring it back, to keep it there, to get the question
into his mind, but in spite of himself his thoughts flew back to the
other public assembly in which he had sat unnoticed that day: till
gradually the aspect of things changed to him, the Speaker became the
judge, the wigged secretaries the pleaders, and he almost expected to
see that sudden apparition, that sight that had plucked him out of his
careless life of boyhood and trust, the sight of his mother standing
before the world on trial for her life. Oh, no, no, not on trial at all!
he was aware of that: a harmless witness, doing only good. The judge
could have nothing but polite regard for her, the jury admiration and
thanks for the clear testimony which took a weight from their shoulders.
But before her son she was on her trial, her trial for more than
life--and he who said with so much assurance that his mother had no
secrets from him! until the moment arrived, without any warning, in the
midst of his security, which proved that eve