The Rosery Folk Part 29

"Why," exclaimed Saxby, as they pa.s.sed out of sight beyond the bushes, "the poor fellow looks worse than ever; and--everything--is drifting into the hands of that Prayle. I hope he's honest. Hang him! I hate him.

"Well, I must be civil to him while I'm here. But I'll wager he hates me too; and knows that I have stood in his way just the same as he does in mine. No, not the same," he added, as he opened the French window to go out on the lawn. "In my case it is a lady, in his money. Which of us will win?"

Volume 2, Chapter V.

ALTHOUGH AN OLD MAID.

"Well, doctor?"

"Well, Miss Raleigh."

"You do not bring him round."

"I don't. He is worried mentally, and I can't get at his complaint."

"Why not take him away, and give him a complete change?"

Doctor Scales injured John Monnick's beautiful turf, that he had been at such trouble to make grow under the big mulberry tree, by suddenly s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g round his garden-seat, to stare in Aunt Sophia's face. "I say," he exclaimed, "are you a reader of thoughts or a prophetess?"

"Neither. Why?"

"Because you are proposing what I have planned."

"Indeed! Well, is it not a good proposal?"

"Excellent; but he will not listen to it. He dare not go outside the place, he says; and I believe that at first he would suffer terribly, for it is quite shocking how weak his nerves have become. He has a horror of the most trivial things; and above all, there is something troubling the brain."

"What can it be?" said Aunt Sophia.

"Well--I'm speaking very plainly to you, Miss Raleigh."

"Of course. We trust each other, doctor."

"Exactly. Well, in a case like this, it is only natural that the poor fellow should feel his position deeply, and be troubling himself about his wife."

"But she seems to be most attentive to him."

"O yes; she never neglects him," replied the doctor, hurriedly going into another branch of his subject. "His money affairs, too, seem to worry him a great deal; and I know it causes him intense agony to be compelled by his weakness to leave so much to other hands."

"But his cousin--Mr Prayle--seems to be devoting himself heart and soul to their management."

"O yes; he seems indefatigable; and Lady Scarlett is always watching over his interests; but no man can find an adequate subst.i.tute for himself."

Aunt Sophia watched the doctor anxiously, asking herself what he really thought, and then half bitterly reflecting how very shallow after all their trust was of each other upon this delicate question of Sir James Scarlett's health. As she looked, she could not help seeing that the doctor's eyes were fixed upon hers with a close scrutiny; and it was with almost a malicious pleasure that she said quietly a few words, and watched the result: "You know, I suppose, that Lady Martlett is coming here to dinner this evening?"

"Coming here? To dinner? This evening?"

"Yes. Is there anything so wonderful in that?"

"O no; of course not. Only--that is--I am a little surprised."

"I don't see why you should be surprised. Lady Martlett always made a great friend of Lady Scarlett, from the time she first came down."

"Yes; I think I have heard so. Of course, there is nothing surprising, except in their great diversity of tastes."

"Extremes meet, doctor," said Aunt Sophia, smiling; "and that will be the case when you take her Ladys.h.i.+p down to dinner."

"I? Take her down?--No, not I," said Scales quickly. "In fact, I was thinking of running up to town to-day. There is an old friend of mine, who has studied nervous diseases a great deal in the Paris hospitals; he is over for a few weeks, and I thought I would consult him."

"At the expense of running away, and making it appear to be because Lady Martlett is coming to dinner."

"Oh; but that idea would be absurd."

"I don't know that, doctor, because, you see, it would be so true.

There, there: don't look cross. I am not an obstinate patient. Why, doctor, are you afraid of her?"

"No; I am more afraid of myself," he said bitterly; "and I have some pride, Miss Raleigh."

"Too much--far too much.--Do you know, doctor, I am turning match-maker in my old age?"

"A worthy pursuit, if you could make good matches."

"Well, would it not be a good one between you and Lady Martlett?"

"Admirable!" he cried, in a bitterly ironical tone. "The union of a wealthy woman, who has a right to make a brilliant contract with some one of her own cla.s.s, to a beggarly, penniless doctor, whose head is full of absurd crotchets.--Miss Raleigh, Miss Raleigh, where is your discrimination!"

"In my brains, I suppose," said Aunt Sophia; "though I do not see how that portion of our organisation can make plans and plots."

"Then you are plotting and planning to marry me to Lady Martlett."

"It needed neither," said Aunt Sophia. "You worked out the union yourselves. She is very fond of you."

"Ha-ha-ha!" laughed the doctor harshly. "And you think her the most attractive woman you ever saw."

"Granted. But that does not prove that I love her. No; I love my profession. James Scarlett's health is my idol, until I have cured him--if I ever do. Then I shall look out for another patient, Miss Raleigh."

"It is my turn now to laugh, doctor. Why, what a transparent man you are!"

"I hope so," he replied. "But you will stay to dinner this evening?"

"No, madam; I shall go to town."

"You will not!" said Aunt Sophia, smiling. "It would be too cowardly for you."

"No, no; I must go," he said. "She would make me her slave, and trample upon my best instincts. It would not do, Miss Raleigh. As it is, I am free. Poor enough, heaven knows! but independent, and--I hope--a gentleman."

"Of course," said Aunt Sophia gravely.