Doctor Luttrell's First Patient Part 24

"You look the very essence of a sunbeam, Livy," returned Mrs.

Broderick, with an admiring look; "but what a nut-brown mayde you have become. Well, was Marcus pleased to get his wife and child back?" And then Olivia smiled happily, for only she knew how she had been missed.

Dr. Bevan left town early in August and Dr. Luttrell took up his position as _loc.u.m tenens_, and in spite of the emptiness of London found plenty of work.

Sometimes, as Olivia walked in the direction of Brunswick Place with Dot toddling beside her, the victoria with its bay horses would pa.s.s her. How Olivia would dimple with amus.e.m.e.nt as Marcus gravely lifted his hat to her.

Ever after a victoria with bay horses figured in Olivia's _chateaux d'espagne_.

Greta complained bitterly of her dullness when her friends had left.

"Eastbourne has lost its charms," she wrote, "and the crowds of people on the Parade only make me feel more lonely. If it were not for fear of Dr. Luttrell, I should come back to Brunswick Place at once, but I dare not run the gauntlet of his sarcasms.

"My one amus.e.m.e.nt is making smocks for Dot. I have finished the pale blue one and it looks lovely, and now I have begun a cream-coloured one; in spite of your stuck-up pride, Olive, you cannot prevent me from working for my darling Dot."

This reproachful sentence was the outcome of a hot argument.

Greta had tried in her affectionate way to lavish gifts upon her friend, but Olivia had steadily refused to allow this.

"No, Greta," she had said, "you do far too much for me already. I have been treated like a princess for a whole month, but I will not have presents heaped on me. Even poor people have their feelings, you know, and rich people must respect them." But this dignified speech made no impression on Greta.

"You may call it proper pride," she said, contemptuously, "but I call it selfishness, for you are just depriving me of my greatest pleasure.

Well, if you choose to be stiff and obstinate you must have your way, but you cannot hinder me from finis.h.i.+ng those smocks." And Olivia, who was full of admiration for Greta's exquisite smocking, announced graciously that the smocks were to be the exception.

"I was obliged to put my foot down, Marcus," she said afterwards, "or she would have bought everything I admired. Perhaps I am proud, but no one but my husband or Aunt Madge shall buy my frocks." And as Olivia said this she held up her head, and looked so dignified and handsome that Marcus refrained from teasing her. Evidently such pride was no fault in his eyes, and it was certain that he very much enjoyed choosing his wife's gowns.

Greta was the first to return. The Gaythornes stayed away until the middle of September.

When Alwyn paid his first visit, Olivia was rejoiced to see the improvement in him. He had gained weight and flesh, and looked very handsome; but Marcus was less satisfied with Mr. Gaythorne.

"He is an old man before his time," he observed. "I am afraid he will never throw off his invalid habits now. He can just potter about in the suns.h.i.+ne and amuse himself with his flowers and museum, but he will never be capable of work again. The least effort to concentrate his thoughts for more than a few minutes seems to irritate his brain.

Nothing pleases him better than to creep up to the grand new studio and watch Alwyn at his work.

"'I shall be proud of him yet,' he said that to me yesterday, and if you had seen his face, Livy, when he said it!"

CHAPTER XX.

"SOMEBODY'S CRUTCH."

"Of all the paths that lead to a woman's love Pity's the straightest."--_Beaumont and Fletcher_.

One afternoon in October Olivia sat at her work in the front parlour.

She was expecting Greta to join her, and more than once she had looked at the clock on the mantelpiece as though wondering at her lateness.

The folding-doors were open; the young couple had taken advantage of their improved circ.u.mstances to add to their scanty stock of furniture.

The dining-table and mahogany chairs bought second-hand in Dr.

Luttrell's bachelor days and the small, ugly chiffonier had been moved into the smaller and duller back room, and the front parlour had been transformed into a dainty sitting-room. Greta's skilful fingers and good taste had been placed at her friend's service. To gratify Marcus's love of comfort two really handsome saddle-back chairs were beside the fireplace, and a little round table occupied the centre of the room. A second-hand writing-table with drawers had been picked up in the city as a great bargain and appropriated for Marcus's use. Over it hung the sketch of Dot and the kitten, long ago presented by the grateful artist. The pretty blue carpet and curtains gave an air of finish.

By Marcus's desire the folding-doors were always kept open, and Olivia no longer felt herself stifled for want of air. This afternoon the little sitting-room looked at its best. A bowl of dark-red cactus dahlias stood on the table, an offering from Alwyn, and a magnificent _Lilium auratum_, a gift from Greta, blocked up the dining-room window.

When the door-bell rang Olivia laid down her work with a pleased smile, and the next moment Greta entered the room.

"How late you are, you naughty girl," she said, kissing her affectionately. "I have been sewing for the last hour."

"Yes, I know; something unforeseen detained me," and then Greta dropped her eyes in sudden embarra.s.sment and blushed. "Oh, Olive dear, can you guess what I have to tell you this afternoon?" and then Olivia looked at her steadily.

"Do you mean," she began, anxiously--but Greta, blus.h.i.+ng still more rosily, interrupted her, "Yes, I do mean it; and, Olive, dear friend, truest of friends, you must congratulate me, for I am so happy."

"You take my breath away, Greta. Are you and Alwyn actually engaged?"

"Yes, dear, we settled it this afternoon; but, of course--of course, I have known for weeks what he meant and wished. He has gone round now to tell his father, and will be here presently. Dear Olive, why are you so silent? Are you not glad about this?"

"I am glad that anything should make you happy," returned Olivia, gently. "And you know how deeply interested I am in your and Alwyn's welfare. But forgive me, Greta, if I ask one question. Are you sure, are you perfectly sure, that this step will be for your happiness----"

Then Greta looked at her in surprise, and there was a reproachful expression in her grey eyes.

"Sure! when I have loved him all these months. My dear Olive, what can you mean? Alwyn is the only man I could ever marry."

"Oh, how it relieves me to hear you say that Dear Greta, I am so fond of you both. Alwyn is charming; but until you said that I was afraid to congratulate you. You know my views on this subject, dear. Do you remember how we talked on the beach at Eastbourne? I am afraid that more than once I made you a little sad; but I was thinking of this. I knew then in my own mind that Alwyn had begun to care for you, and I wanted you to have plenty of time for consideration."

"Oh, yes; you made your meaning clear to me even then," returned Greta, smiling; "but, indeed, no consideration was necessary. When Alwyn came to me and said quite simply that he loved me and wanted me to be his wife, I just put my hand in his without a word. It almost shocked me to see his grat.i.tude. He kept saying over and over again that he was not worthy of me; that he knew he had done nothing to win my respect, and I should not be able to look up to him. Oh, Olive, he quite broke down when he said this, but I soon comforted him. 'I only remember two things,' I said to him,--'that you love me, and that you need me.' And after that we understood each other."

"Dearest Greta. Aunt Madge was right when she told me that you were born into the world to be somebody's crutch."

"Did she say that?" and Greta's eyes had a dreamy look in them; "but I tell Alwyn that I mean to lean on him. Indeed, Olive, you must not undervalue him. Alwyn is stronger than you think. He has repented truly and deeply of all his boyish mistakes, and those who love him should utterly and for ever wipe out the record of his past. See how devotedly his father loves him; his forgiveness was absolute."

"Dear, you need not say any more;" and Olivia embraced her with tears in her eyes. "I can only wish you all the happiness you deserve."

"In that case my happiness would be little enough; but, of course, I know what you mean. And, Olive, for the first time in my life I can say with truth that I have found my vocation. It will be such a privilege to be allowed to take care of Alwyn; he is far from strong, and he will need care for a long time. I wonder if you know the feeling I have about that? With Dr. Luttrell you cannot have had it.

You have never been anxious about him; and then he has always taken care of you. But I shall always have to think for Alwyn."

"Oh, you are right there!"

"We shall think for each other," she went on, fearing that she had admitted too much. "And there is one thing of which I am certain that I shall have every right to be proud of him. Do you know what his father says? that he has genius, unmistakable genius, and he is no mean judge. 'Mark my words, he will be an R.A. yet;' he only said that to me a few days ago."

"Marcus thinks the same; but, Greta, there is one thing: if you marry Alwyn, you will have to take his father too; you can never separate them."

"Those were Alwyn's very words," returned Greta, with a soft flush which made her look years younger; "but, indeed, I love him already for Alwyn's sake, and because he is so good to him. Oh, Olive dear, if you knew the joy it will be to me to have someone for whom I can care again. I do not want my life to be too easy or free from responsibility; but I do want it to be real, actual life. Mrs.

Broderick and I were only talking about it yesterday. She says what single women miss in their lives is some absorbing interest; a work that shall fill up all the crannies."

"Oh, Aunt Madge is very strong on that point. I remember, before I knew Marcus, that we had wonderful talks on this subject. She used to be so fond of quoting Carmen Sylva's speech, 'A woman does not become a mother, she is a mother from her birth. A woman's family satisfies her vocation, but does not create it.' And she used to tell me to mother my pupils. 'You must love them hard,' she would say, 'and live their young lives as well as your own;' but, thank G.o.d, we can always find objects for our love. I should make you laugh, Greta, if I told you how I mapped out my future as an old maid; but I am quite sure I should have made a good one."

Just then the door-bell rang, and Alwyn entered; he looked eager and excited.

"Well, has she told you?" were his first words, as Olivia met him with outstretched hands; and then, as she warmly congratulated him, his eyes glowed with feeling. "I have not deserved such a prize, have I, Mrs.

Luttrell? but Greta has promised to make the best of me. Will you forgive me if I take her away for a little? My father is most impatient to welcome his new daughter, and he will only excite himself if we keep him waiting."