Son Philip.

by George Manville Fenn.

CHAPTER ONE.

THEIR BOY.

"Well, why not be a soldier?"

Philip Hexton shook his head.

"No, father. There's something very brave in a soldier's career; but I should like to save life, not destroy it."

"You would save life in times of trouble; fight for your country, and that sort of thing."

"No, father; I shall not be a soldier."

"A sailor, then?"

"I have not sufficient love of adventure, father."

"Oh no, my boy, don't be a sailor," said Mrs Hexton piteously. "I have had sufferings enough over your father's risks in the mine."

"No, no, Phil; you must not be a sailor," said st.u.r.dy, grey-haired old Hexton, laughing. "I should never get a wink of sleep if you did.

Every time the wind blew your mother would be waking me up to ask me if I didn't think you were wrecked."

"No, dear; I shall not be a sailor," said Philip Hexton; and leaving his chair at the breakfast table he went round to his mother's side, sank down on one knee, pa.s.sed his arm around her, and drew her to his broad breast.

It was a pleasant sight to see the look of pride come into the mother's face, as she laid one hand upon her son's shoulder, and pressed a few loose strands of hair away from his thoughtful forehead, which wrinkled slightly, and there was a look of anxiety in his face as he looked tenderly at the loving woman.

"That's right, Phil dear," she said; "don't choose any life that is full of risks."

"Don't try to make a milksop of him, mother," said Mr Hexton, laughing.

"Why, one would think Phil was ten years old, instead of twenty. I say, my boy, had she aired your night-cap for you last night, and warmed the bed?"

"Well, I must confess to the warm bed, father," said the young man. "A night-cap I never wear."

"I thought so," said Mr Hexton, chuckling. "You must not stop at home, Phil. She'll want you to have camomile tea three times a week."

"You may joke as much as you like, Hexton," said his wife, bridling, "but no one shall ever say that I put anybody into a damp bed; and as for the camomile tea, many a time has it given you health when you have been ailing."

"Why, you don't think I ever took any of the stuff you left out for me, do you?"

"Of course, dear."

"Never took a gla.s.s of it," said Old Hexton, chuckling. "Threw it all out of the window."

"Then it was a great shame," said Mrs Hexton angrily, "and a very bad example to set to your son."

"Never mind, Phil; don't you take it," chuckled Mr Hexton. Then becoming serious he went on: "Well, there's no hurry, my boy; only now that you are back from Germany, and can talk High Dutch and Low Dutch, and French, and all the rest of it, why it is getting time to settle what you are to do. I could allow you so much a year, and let you be a gentleman, with nothing to do, if I liked; but I don't hold with a young fellow going through life and being of no use--only a tailor's dummy to wear fine clothes."

"Oh no, father; I mean to take to a business life," said Philip Hexton quickly.

"Of course, my lad; and you'll do well in it. I began life in a pair of ragged breeches that didn't fit me, shoving the corves of coal in a mine; and now," he exclaimed proudly, "I'm partner as well as manager in our pit. So what I say is, if I could do what I have done, beginning life in a pair of ragged breeches that didn't fit me, why, what can my boy do, as has had a first-cla.s.s education, and can have money to back him?"

"My dear James," said Mrs Hexton, "I do wish you would not be so fond of talking about those--those--"

"Ragged breeches, mother?" said the old fellow, chuckling; "but I will.

That's her pride, Phil, my boy. Now she wears caps made of real lace, she wants to forget how humble she used to be."

"Nothing of the kind, James," said the pleasant lady tartly; "I'm not ashamed of our humble beginnings, but I am ashamed to make vulgar remarks."

"That's a knock-down, Phil, my boy," said Mr Hexton. "There, I won't mention them again, mother. But come, we are running away from our subject. I'm heartily glad to see you back, Phil," he cried; and there was a little moisture gathered in his eyes as he spoke; "and I thank G.o.d to see that you have grown into so fine, healthy, and st.u.r.dy a fellow.

G.o.d bless you, my boy! G.o.d bless you!"

He had left his seat at the foot of the table, and came round to stand beside his son, patting his shoulder, and then taking and wringing his hand. He half bent down, too, once, as if to kiss the broad sunburnt forehead, but altered his mind directly, as he thought it would be weak, and ended by going and sitting down once more.

"There's plenty of time, of course," he said, "but somehow I shouldn't dislike to have it settled. Have you ever thought about the matter, Phil?"

"Yes, father, deeply," said the young man, rising, and then standing holding his mother's hand. "I like sport, and games, and a bit of idleness sometimes, especially for a Continental trip."

"Well, if you call that idleness, Phil," said the elder, rubbing his legs, "give me the hardest day's work in the pit. Remember our climbing up the Gummy Pa.s.s, mother, last year?"

"Oh, don't talk about it, father," said the old lady. "But then we are not so young as we used to be. Go on, Philip, my dear."

She held on tightly by her son's hand as she spoke, and kept gazing up at him with a wonderfully proud look.

"Well, father, as I say, I like a bit of change."

"Of course, my lad; all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy."

"But I think it is the duty of every young man--boy, if you like, mother," he said, smiling.

"Young man, Philip," she replied, "for I'm sure you've grown into a very fine young man."

"Ugly as possible," growled the father, with a twinkle in his eye.

"I'm sure he's a much finer and handsomer young man than you were when I married you, father!" said the old lady with spirit.

"Oh, of course!" chuckled Mr Hexton; "he's lovely! Phil, boy, pray use scented soap and plenty of pomatum."

"Come, father, let's set aside joking for the time," said Philip quietly. "I'm very glad to get home again, and to find my mother so proud and happy to have me back--and you, too, sir."

Mr Hexton nodded, and changed his position a little.

"You want to know what I mean to settle to be, sir?"

"Yes, my boy; I should like to know."