"Grandpapa!" she cried with a smile. Mr. Tozer was almost as much taken aback by this apparition as Phoebe herself had been. He knew that his daughter had made great strides in social elevation, and that her children, when he had seen them last, had been quite like "gentlefolk's children;" but to see this young princess step forth graciously out of a first-class carriage, and address him as "grandpapa," took away his breath.
"Why--why--why, Miss! you ain't little Phoebe?" he cried, scared out of his seven senses, as he afterwards said.
"Yes, indeed, I am little Phoebe," she said, coming up and kissing him dutifully. She was half-disgusted, he half-frightened; but yet it was right, and Phoebe did it. "I have only two boxes and a bag," she said, "besides my dressing-case. If you will get a cab, grandpapa, I will go and see after the luggage."
Old Tozer thought he could have carried the bag himself, and left the boxes to follow; but he succumbed humbly and obeyed.
"She don't seem a bit proud," he said to himself; "but, good Lord, what'll she ever say to my old woman?"
He saw the contrast very clearly between his wife and this splendid grandchild. It did not strike him so much in his own case.
"How is grandmamma?" said Phoebe, blandly; "better, I hope? Mamma was so sorry not to come herself; but you know, of course, she has a great many things to do. People in town are obliged to keep up certain appearances. You are a great deal better off in the country, grandpapa."
"Lord bless you, my dear, do you call Carlingford the country?" said Mr. Tozer. "That is all you know about it. Your granny and I are humble folks, but the new minister at Salem is one as keeps up appearances with the best. Your mother was always inclined for that. I hope she has not brought you up too fine for the likes of us."
"I hope not, indeed," said Phoebe. "No fear of my being too fine for my duty, grandpapa. Do you live down this nice road? How pretty it is! how delightful these gardens must be in summer. I beg your pardon for calling it the country. It is so quiet and so nice, it seems the country to me."
"Ah, to be sure; brought up in the London smoke," said Mr. Tozer. "I don't suppose, now, you see a bit of green from year's end to year's end? Very bad for the 'ealth, that is; but I can't say you look poorly on it. Your colour's fresh, so was your mother's before you. To be sure, she wasn't cooped up like you."
