Had not the lawyer kicked him because he lay upon the pedal?
I was resolved that after such an insult he should not so much as have the trouble of walking upstairs.

So I carried him, and as I went I condoled with him.
"Did the nasty man kick him?
My poor Ru, my darling, dear Ru! The pedal is yours, and not his, and the whole house is yours, and not his nor Miss Burton's; and oh, I wish they would go!" As I whined, Rubens whined; as I kissed him he licked me, and the result was unfavourable to balance, and I was obliged to sit down on a step.

And as I sat I wept, and as I wept that overpowering mother-need came over me, which drives even the little ragamuffin of the gutter to carry his complaints to "mother" for comfort and redress.

And I took up Rubens in my arms again, sobbing, and saying, "I shall go to Mamma!" and so weeping and in the darkness we crept into the dressing-room.
I could see nothing, but I knew well where "Mamma" was, and standing under the picture, I sobbed out my incoherent complaint.
"Good-evening, Mamma! Good-evening, Sister Alice! Please, Mamma, it's me and Rubens." (Sobs on my part, and frantic attempts by Rubens to lick every inch of my face at once.) "And please, Mamma, we're very miser-r-r-r-rable.

And oh! please, Mamma, don't let papa marry Miss Burton.