Chapter 3 third chapter

The house in which Mrs Carey died stood in a dreary but respectable high street in Kensington, between Notting Hill Gate and the High Street.When the carriage had arrived, Emma showed Philip into the drawing-room.His uncle was writing letters of thanks to relatives and friends who had given wreaths.One arrived late for the funeral and was still in its cardboard box on the hall table. "Master Philip is here," said Emma. Mr. Carey stood up slowly, shook hands with the child, then bent down and kissed the child on the forehead.Mr. Carey was below average height and was beginning to put on weight.His hair was long and purposely let it cover the bald crown of his head.He is clean-shaven and has regular features. It is not difficult to imagine that he must have looked handsome when he was young.On his watch chain hung a gold cross.

"You're going to live with me from now on, Philip," said Mr. Carey, "will you?" When Philip had chicken-pox two years ago, he had been sent to the vicar's house for a while; but all he could recall today was a garret and a big garden there, which meant nothing to his uncle and aunt. impression. "willing." "You've got to think of me and your Aunt Louisa as your own parents." The child's lips trembled slightly, and his little face suddenly turned red, but he didn't make a sound. "Your dear mother has entrusted you to my care."

Mr. Carey was not good at words, and he didn't know what to say at the moment.As soon as he got word that his sister-in-law was dying, he set out for London.He didn't think about anything else along the way, he was just worried that if something happened to his sister-in-law, he would have to take the responsibility of taking care of her son, and he would never want to live a peaceful life in this life.He is over half a century old, has been married for thirty years, and his wife has never given birth to a boy or a girl; at this age, he would not like a little boy to appear in the family out of thin air, maybe a boy who loves to shout and behave rough all the time .Besides, he never had much affection for his sister-in-law.

"I'm going to take you to Blackstable tomorrow," he said. "Emma coming too?" The child put his little hand into Emma's palm, and Emma held it tightly. "I'm afraid Emma must leave you," said Mr. Carey. "But I want Emma to come with me." Philip burst into tears, and the nanny couldn't help crying.Mr. Carey watched them helplessly. "I think it would be best if I were left alone with Master Philip." "Okay, sir." Although Philip held her desperately, she tenderly let the child go.Mr. Carey took the child on his lap and put his arm around him.

"You shouldn't be crying," said Mr. Carey. "You're too old to use a nanny anymore. We've got to find a way to get you to school." "I want Emma to come with me," the child muttered again. "That's going to cost a lot, Philip. Your father didn't leave much money, and I don't know how much he has left. You'll have to figure it out, and don't spend a penny." Just the day before, Mr. Carey had visited the family lawyer.Philip's father was a skilled surgeon.His various positions at the hospital indicate that he has established himself in the medical profession.So when he died suddenly of blood poisoning, it was a great feeling to see that all he left to his widow was a life insurance money and the rent they received from their house in Bruton Street. Accident.That was six months ago; when Mrs. Carey was very weak and found out that she was pregnant, she had accepted in a bewildering manner the first offer to rent the house.She piled up her furniture and rented for a year a fully furnished house in another house, at a rent which, in the opinion of the priest-uncle, was frighteningly high.The reason why she did this was to live a smooth life before the child was born.But she has never been good at managing the family's finances, and she doesn't know how to save money and live within her means to adapt to changes in the situation.The money, which was originally very limited, was spent here and there, almost all of it slipped through her fingers.Now, when all expenses were paid, there remained only a little over two thousand pounds, on which the child was to be kept till he could earn his own living.How could you tell Philip all this while the boy was still crying.

"You'd better go to Emma," said Mr. Carey, who felt that Emma was a better comforter than anyone else. Philip slipped off his uncle's lap without a sound, but Mr. Carey stopped him a moment later. "We have to leave tomorrow, because I have a sermon to be prepared on Saturday. You have to tell Emma to pack up today. You can take all the toys with you, and if you want something from your parents as a memento, you can Keep one of each. Sell the rest." The child walked quietly into the living room.Mr. Carey, unaccustomed to working at a desk, continued to write his letter with resentment.At one end of the desk was a stack of bills, which made him very angry.One of them seemed particularly absurd.As soon as Mrs. Carey died, Emma immediately ordered a large number of white flowers from the florist to decorate the room of the deceased.This is pure waste of money.Emma didn't know how to behave, and dared to make such a decision on her own.Even if life is very good, he will quit her.

But Philip hurried to Emma's side, threw himself in her arms, and wept bitterly.Emma has been taking care of Philip for a month after his birth, and she almost treats Philip as her own son.She coaxed her, promised to come to see him when she had time, and never forget him; she told Philip about the country and the people where he was going, and then about her own home in Devonshire-- --her father guards the tax card on the road to Exeter; there are a lot of pigs in the pigsty at home: there is also a cow and a new calf--Philip listen Not only did he forget that he was still crying just now, but he also gradually became excited when he thought of the upcoming trip.After a while, Emma put him on the ground, she had a lot to do.Philip helped take out his clothes one by one and put them on the bed.She sent him to the nursery to gather up the toys, and in a short while he was happily playing with them.

Finally, he got tired of playing alone, and went back to the bedroom.Emma was busy putting his clothes and supplies into the big tin box.At this moment Philip suddenly remembered that his uncle had said that he could take a piece of his parents' belongings as a souvenir.He told Emma about it, and asked her what she should choose. "You'd better go into the drawing room and see what you like." "Uncle William is there." "It's okay, those things belong to you now." Philip went downstairs slowly and found the drawing-room door open.Mr. Carey had walked away.Philip walked slowly around.They had been here so soon, and there was little in the room that particularly interested him.It was some stranger's house, and there was not a single thing to his liking; but he could still tell which belonged to his mother and which belonged to the landlady.At this time, his eyes rested on a small clock, and he remembered hearing his mother say that she liked it very much.Philip came up-stairs sullenly with the little clock.He walked outside the door of his mother's bedroom, stopped abruptly, and listened carefully.Although no one told him not to go in, he always had a feeling that he shouldn't rush in.Philip's heart was pounding with fear, and at the same time with curiosity, which made him turn the handle.He turned the doorknob gently, as if afraid of being heard by the people inside, and then pushed the door open bit by bit.He stood for a moment on the threshold, and at last summoned up courage to enter.Now he has no fear, but feels a little strange in front of him.He closed the door behind him.The shutters were closed, and a few rays of cool January afternoon sunlight filtered in through the cracks, making the room very dark.On the dresser were Mrs. Carey's hairbrush and a handle mirror.There are several bobby pins in a small dish.There was a picture of himself on the mantelpiece, and a picture of his father.In the past, he used to come here when his mother was away; but now, the house seemed different.The appearance of those chairs looks really strange.The bed was made neatly, as if someone was going to bed that night.Next to the pillow was a slip pocket with a pajamas in it.

Philip opened the large closet, which was full of clothes. He stepped into the closet, opened his arms and hugged as many clothes as he could, and buried his face in the pile of clothes.There is still warmth on the clothes, which is the fragrance of the perfume my mother used during her lifetime.Then, he opened the drawer, which was full of his mother's clothing and accessories.He took a closer look: there were several lavender bags in his underwear, exuding a refreshing fragrance.The strange atmosphere in the room disappeared immediately, and he had a vague feeling that his mother had just gone for a walk and would be back soon, and she would come upstairs to have tea with him in the nursery.He even vaguely felt his mother's kiss on his lips.

It wasn't true that he would never see his mother again.Can't see mom?How is this possible!Philip climbed into bed and put his head on the pillow.He lay there motionless.