She kneeled at his knees,
with streaming eyes, and held her boy up to him: "Plead for your poor
mother, my darling. She mourns her fault, and will never excuse it."
The cause was soon decided. All Philip's logic was nothing, compared
with mighty nature. Christopher gave one great sob, and took his darling
to his heart, without one word; and he and Rosa clung together, and
cried over each other. Philip slipped out of the room, and left the
restored ones together.
I have something more to say about my hero and heroine, but must first
deal with other characters, not wholly uninteresting to the reader, I
hope.
Dr. Staines directed Phoebe Falcon how to treat her husband. No
medicine, no stimulants; very wholesome food, in moderation, and
the temperature of the body regulated by tepid water. Under these
instructions, the injured but still devoted wife was the real healer.
He pulled through, but was lame for life, and ridiculously lame, for he
went with a spring halt,--a sort of hop-and-go-one that made the girls
laugh, and vexed Adonis.
Phoebe found the diamonds, and offered them all to Staines, in expiation
of his villany. "See," she said, "he has only spent one."
Staines said he was glad of it, for her sake, for he must be just to his
own family.
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