The Rosery Folk Part 20

"Row? No!" said Scarlett with a shudder. "I never go on the water now.

My left wrist is so weak, I am afraid I have somehow sprained one of the tendons. Don't ask me to row."

Lady Scarlett darted a second imploring look at the doctor, and he read it, as it seemed to him, to say: "Pray, don't allude to the water;" but it was part of his endeavour to probe his friend's mental wound to the quick, and he went on: "Laziness, you sybaritish old humbug! Very well, then; I'll give up the rowing, and we'll have the punt, and go and fish."

"Impossible; the water is too thick, and I don't think there are any baits ready."

"How tiresome!" said the doctor. "I had made up my mind for a try at the barbel before I went back."

"Before you went back?" cried Scarlett excitedly; and he caught his friend by the arm--"before you went back! What do you mean?"

"Mean, old fellow? Why, before I went back to London."

"Why, you're not thinking of going back--of leaving me here alone--of leaving me--me--er--" He trailed off, leaving his sentence unfinished, and stood looking appealingly at his friend.

"Why, my dear boy, what nonsense you are talking," replied Scales.

"Leave you--alone? Why, man, you've your aunt and your relatives.

There's your cousin out there now."

"Yes, yes--of course--I know. But don't go, Jack. I'm--I'm ill. I--I want you to set.--to set me right. Don't--don't go and leave me, Jack."

"Now, there's a wicked old impostor for you, Lady Scarlett!" cried the doctor, going close up to his friend, catching him by both shoulders, giving him a bit of a shake, and then patting him on the chest and back.

"Not so stout as he was, but sound as a roach. Lungs without a weak spot. Heart pumping like a steam-engine--eyes clear--skin as fresh as a daisy--and tongue as clean. Get out, you sham Abram! pretending a pain to get me to stay!"

"Yes, of course I'm quite well--quite well, Jack; but a trifle--just a trifle low. I thought you'd stop with me, and take--take care of me a bit and put me right. I'm--I'm so lonely down here now."

Lady Scarlett did not speak; but there was a quiver of the lip, and a look in her eyes as she turned them upon the doctor, that disarmed him.

"She does care for him," he said to himself. "She must care for him."

"I tell you what it is," he said aloud; "you've been overdoing it in those confounded greenhouses of yours. Too much hot air, moist carbonic acid gas, and that sort of thing.--Lady Scarlett, he has been thinking a deal more of his melons than of his health."

"Yes; he does devote a very, very great deal of attention to them,"

a.s.sented Lady Scarlett eagerly.

"To be sure, and it is not good for him.--You must go up to town more and attend to business."

"Yes, of course; I mean to--soon," said Scarlett, with his eyes wandering from one to the other.

"Here, you must beg off with Lady Scarlett, and come up with me."

"With you? What! to town?"

"To be sure; and we'll have a regular round of dissipation: Monday pops; the opera; and Sat.u.r.day concerts at the Crystal Palace. What do you say?"

"No!" said Scarlett, in a sharp, harsh, peremptory way. "I am not going to town again--at present."

"Nonsense, man I--Tell him he may come, Lady Scarlett."

"Oh yes, yes; I should be glad for him to go!" cried Lady Scarlett eagerly; and then she shrank and coloured as she saw the doctor's searching look.

"There, you hear."

"Yes, I hear; but I cannot go. The gla.s.s-houses could not be left now."

"What, not to our old friend Monnick?"

"No; certainly not; no," cried Scarlett hastily. "Come out now--in the garden, Jack. I'll show you.--Are you very busy in town--much practice?"

"Practice?" cried Scales, laughing, and thoroughly off his guard as to himself. "Not a bit, my dear boy. I'm a regular outcast from professional circles. No practice for me."

"Then there is nothing to take you back," cried Scarlett quickly, "and you must stay.--Kate, do you hear? I say he must stay!"

There was an intense irritation in his manner as he said these words, and his wife looked up in a frightened way.

"Yes, yes, dear. Of course Doctor Scales will stay."

"Then why don't you ask him?" he continued in the same irritable manner.

"A man won't stop if the mistress of the house slights him."

"But, my dear James," cried Lady Scarlett, with the tears in her eyes, "I have not slighted Doctor Scales. On the contrary, I was begging that he would stay when you came in."

"Why?--why?" exclaimed Scarlett, with increasing excitement. "You must have had some reason. Do you hear? Why did you ask him to stay?"

"Because I knew you wished it," said Lady Scarlett meekly; "and I thought it would do you good to have him with you for a time, dear."

"Do me good! Such sickly nonsense! Just as if I were ill. You put me out of patience, Kate; you do indeed. How can you be so childis.h.!.+--Come into the garden, Jack. I'll be back directly I've got my cigar-case."

"Shall I fetch it, dear?" asked Lady Scarlett eagerly.

"No; of course not. Any one would think I was an invalid;" and he left the room.

"Lady Scarlett," said the doctor, as soon as they were alone, "I will stay."

"G.o.d bless you!" she cried, with a burst of sobbing; and she hurried away.

Volume 1, Chapter XVI.

BROTHER WILLIAM AT HOME.

Brother William went very regularly to the Scarletts, and took f.a.n.n.y's magazines, handing them to her always with an air of disgust, which resulted in their being s.n.a.t.c.hed angrily away. Then he would sit down, and in due time partake of tea, dwelling over it, as it were, in a very bovine manner--the resemblance being the stronger whenever there was watercress or lettuce upon the table. In fact, there was something remarkably ruminative in Brother William's slow, deliberate, contemplative way; while, to carry on the simile, there was a something almost in keeping in the manners of Martha Betts--a something that while you looked at the well-nurtured, smooth, pleasant, quiet woman, set the observer thinking of Lady Scarlett's gentle Jersey cows, that came up, dewy lipped and sweet breathed, to blink and have their necks patted and ears pulled by those they knew.

Injustice to Martha Betts, it must be said that she never allowed her neck to be patted nor her ears pulled by Brother William; and what was more, that stout yeoman farmer would never for a moment have thought of presuming to behave so to the lady of his choice; for that she was the lady of his choice he one day showed. It was a pleasant afternoon, and Brother William had been greatly enjoying a delicious full-hearted lettuce that John Monnick had brought in expressly for the servants'

tea. Perhaps it was the lettuce which inspired the proposal that was made during the temporary absence of f.a.n.n.y from the tea-table.

"Pretty girl, f.a.n.n.y; ain't she, Martha?"

"Very; but I would not tell her so. She knows it quite enough."

"She do," said Brother William; "and it's a pity; but I'm used to it.