The adventures of Philip I-II. [antikvár]

PHILIP. CHAPTER 1. Doctor Fell. "Not attend her own son when he is ill!" said my mother. ''She does not deserve to have a son!" And Mrs. Pendennis looked towards her own only darling whilst uttering this indignant exclamation. As she looked, I know what passed through her mind. She nursed me; she dressed me in little caps and long-clothes: she attired me in my first jacket and trousers: she watched at my bedside through my infantile and juvenile ailments: she tended me through all my life: she held me to her heart with infinite prayers and blessings. She is no longer with us to bless and pray; but from heaven, where she is, I know her love pursues me; and often and often I think she is here, only invisible. "Mrs. Firmin would be of no good," growled Dr. Good-enough. "She would have hysterics, and the nurse would have two patients to look after." "Don't tell we," cries my mother, with a flush on her cheeks. "Do you suppose if that child " (meaning, of course, her paragon) "were ill, I would not go to him? " "My dear, if that child were hungry, you would chop off your head to make him broth," says the doctor, sipping his tea. "Potage a la bonne femme" says Mr. Pendennis. "Mother, we have it at the club. You would be done with milk, eggs, and a quantity of vegetables. You would be put to simmer for many hoiirs in an earthen pan, and-" Philip. I. 1