‘Peter, you are a beast; leave these cards, I tell you!’ cried Phil. ‘Sorry, Master Phil, ’tis too late,’ said Peter, extending his hand towards the cards that Phil still held; ‘missie must be goin’ now.’ Carrie stood on tiptoe to wave a better adieu to her playmate, but Phil did not notice her; he was gathering together all his sick little strength to avenge himself on the inexorable Peter. ‘There, you devilled flunkey!’ he screamed, pitching the cards into Peter’s face and falling back against the pillows with a sharp cry of pain. Peter covered the child gently with the bed-clothes, gathered up the cards in silence, and signed to Patty and Carrie to follow him out of the room. ‘That’s some of the master’s speech he’s pickin’ up,’ he said, with a shake of the head; ‘he don’t swear very skilful, as you may see, Miss Patty—no fear but he’ll get at that yet,’ he added, with a half smile, half sigh. Carrie, rather awed at this scene, took tight hold of Patty’s hand and did not speak till they were well out in the street again. ‘I do not think Phil is very happy,’ she said then. ‘Not he, Miss Carrie—not for all his grand house an’ altogether, for he’s a bad boy he is,’ responded the moral Patty. CHAPTER XV It was a long time until Carrie saw Phil again. ‘Master Phil hath gone off to the country to establish his ’ealth,’ Patty said, and it seemed as though he would never return again, Carrie thought; for often as she sighed for her little companion, he did not come, and finally Patty, who seemed to have occult communication with the household in St. James’ Square, informed her that Phil had gone to school. Patty wept as she gave this bit of information, and Carrie, partly, it must be confessed, out of the imitative faculty, wept also at the news. Time, they say, dries every tear—perhaps it does—certainly Carrie’s were soon dried; but she remembered Phil long and tenderly for all that, and used to ask Patty at intervals if she was never going to see him again. Patty always answered these questions with a burst of tears, which response had such a sobering effect upon Carrie that she at last feared to make the inquiry. But one day, fully a year from the date of Phil’s accident, as Patty and Carrie walked round the Square together they met a tall lad, having the shining eyes of Phil, but changed, it seemed, in every other way beyond recognition. He was walking along with another boy, and passed by Carrie with an unregarding stare. Carrie stood still, stamped her little foot in anger, and turned to Patty for sympathy. ‘’Twas Phil, Patty!’ she cried, ‘and he passed me without knowing me!’ Patty gave her head an upward toss. ‘Pay no heed to him, Miss Carrie; the men are all alike—not one to mend another,’ she said scornfully. They were passing at that moment the door whence the magnificent Peter had been wont to appear.