I didn't envy him having to
sit there, facing Miss Patricia, with his conscience hurting him as it
must have done. That is the advantage of being a monkey. We have no
consciences to trouble us. I didn't envy his home-coming, either,
although I knew he would be glad enough to creep into his warm, soft
bed. His feet were badly blistered from his long tramp in his new
shoes.
Stuart looked after my comfort, and I was soon curled up snugly on a
cushion before the fire. Phil and Elsie had a hot bath, and hot bread
and milk, and were put to bed at once. Elsie was coughing at nearly
every breath, and the doctor seemed troubled when he came up to rub
some soothing lotion on the poor little swelled forehead. He brought
something for Phil's blistered feet, too, but he never spoke a word
all the time he was putting it on.
After it was done he stood looking at him very gravely. Then he said:
"Your little sister tells me that you took her out to dance and sing
in the streets to-day to earn money, in order that you may run away
from home. Is that so?"
"Yes, sir," answered Phil, in a very faint voice.
"So you are tired of your home," continued the doctor, "and think you
could find kinder treatment among strangers who care nothing for you.
I am sorry that my little son has come to such a conclusion. But if
you are determined to leave us, there is no necessity for you to slip
off like a thief in the night.
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