Presently Mary Ann came in to lay the tea, and Aunt Louisa descended the stairs.

“Have you had a nice little nap, William?” she asked.

“No,” he answered.  “Philip made so much noise that I couldn’t sleep a wink.”

This was not quite accurate, for he had been kept awake by his own thoughts; and Philip, listening sullenly, reflected that he had only made a noise once, and there was no reason why his uncle should not have slept before or after.  When Mrs. Carey asked for an explanation the Vicar narrated the facts.

“He hasn’t even said he was sorry,” he finished.

“Oh, Philip, I’m sure you’re sorry,” said Mrs. Carey, anxious that the child should not seem wickeder to his uncle than need be.

Philip did not reply.  He went on munching his bread and butter.  He did not know what power it was in him that prevented him from making any expression of regret.  He felt his ears tingling, he was a little inclined to cry, but no word would issue from his lips.

“You needn’t make it worse by sulking,” said Mr. Carey.

Tea was finished in silence.  Mrs. Carey looked at Philip surreptitiously now and then, but the Vicar elaborately ignored him.  When Philip saw his uncle go upstairs to get ready for church he went into the hall and got his hat and coat, but when the Vicar came downstairs and saw him, he said: 

“I don’t wish you to go to church tonight, Philip.  I don’t think you’re in a proper frame of mind to enter the House of God.”

Philip did not say a word.  He felt it was a deep humiliation that was placed upon him, and his cheeks reddened.  He stood silently watching his uncle put on his broad hat and his voluminous cloak.  Mrs. Carey as usual went to the door to see him off.  Then she turned to Philip.

“Never mind, Philip, you won’t be a naughty boy next Sunday, will you, and then your uncle will take you to church with him in the evening.”

She took off his hat and coat, and led him into the dining-room.

“Shall you and I read the service together, Philip, and we’ll sing the hymns at the harmonium.  Would you like that?”

Philip shook his head decidedly.  Mrs. Carey was taken aback.  If he would not read the evening service with her she did not know what to do with him.

“Then what would you like to do until your uncle comes back?” she asked helplessly.

Philip broke his silence at last.

“I want to be left alone,” he said.

“Philip, how can you say anything so unkind?  Don’t you know that your uncle and I only want your good?  Don’t you love me at all?”

“I hate you.  I wish you was dead.”