“Now you’re coming to live with us till you find something to do,” said Athelny, when he had finished.

Philip flushed, he knew not why.

“Oh, it’s awfully kind of you, but I don’t think I’ll do that.”

“Why not?”

Philip did not answer.  He had refused instinctively from fear that he would be a bother, and he had a natural bashfulness of accepting favours.  He knew besides that the Athelnys lived from hand to mouth, and with their large family had neither space nor money to entertain a stranger.

“Of course you must come here,” said Athelny.  “Thorpe will tuck in with one of his brothers and you can sleep in his bed.  You don’t suppose your food’s going to make any difference to us.”

Philip was afraid to speak, and Athelny, going to the door, called his wife.

“Betty,” he said, when she came in, “Mr. Carey’s coming to live with us.”

“Oh, that is nice,” she said.  “I’ll go and get the bed ready.”

She spoke in such a hearty, friendly tone, taking everything for granted, that Philip was deeply touched.  He never expected people to be kind to him, and when they were it surprised and moved him.  Now he could not prevent two large tears from rolling down his cheeks.  The Athelnys discussed the arrangements and pretended not to notice to what a state his weakness had brought him.  When Mrs. Athelny left them Philip leaned back in his chair, and looking out of the window laughed a little.

“It’s not a very nice night to be out, is it?”

CII

Athelny told Philip that he could easily get him something to do in the large firm of linendrapers in which himself worked.  Several of the assistants had gone to the war, and Lynn and Sedley with patriotic zeal had promised to keep their places open for them.  They put the work of the heroes on those who remained, and since they did not increase the wages of these were able at once to exhibit public spirit and effect an economy; but the war continued and trade was less depressed; the holidays were coming, when numbers of the staff went away for a fortnight at a time:  they were bound to engage more assistants.  Philip’s experience had made him doubtful whether even then they would engage him; but Athelny, representing himself as a person of consequence in the firm, insisted that the manager could refuse him nothing.  Philip, with his training in Paris, would be very useful; it was only a matter of waiting a little and he was bound to get a well-paid job to design costumes and draw posters.  Philip made a poster for the summer sale and Athelny took it away.  Two days later he brought it back, saying that the manager admired it very much and regretted with all his heart that there was no vacancy just then in that department.  Philip asked whether there was nothing else he could do.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Are you quite sure?”