Of Human Bondage by William Somerset Maugham

When they reached the house Mrs. Carey had died in -- it was in a dreary, respectable street between Notting Hill Gate and High Street, Kensington -- Emma led Philip into the drawing-room. His uncle was writing letters of thanks for the wreaths which had been sent. One of them, which had arrived too late for the funeral, lay in its cardboard box on the hall-table.

"Here's Master Philip," said Emma.