Dr. Rumsey's Patient Part 39

"Go away now, Maggie, I can't see you; I am very much engaged," he said.

Instead of obeying him she stepped across the threshold.

"But you have no one with you," she said, looking into the darkness of the room. "What are you doing, Robert, all by yourself? You look very white and tired. We have finished dinner--my uncle has come over from Cuthbertstown, and would like to see you--they all think it strange your being away. What is the matter? Won't you return with me to the house?"

"I cannot yet. I am particularly engaged."

"But what about? Uncle James will be much disappointed if he does not see you."

"I'll come to him presently when I have thought out a problem."

Margaret turned herself now in such a position that she could see her husband's face. Something in his eyes seemed to speak straight to her sympathies,--she put her arms round his neck.

"Don't think any more now, my darling," she said. "Remember, though you are so well, that you were once very ill. You have had no dinner, it is not right for you to starve yourself and tire yourself. Come home with me, Robert, come home!"

"Not yet," he replied. "There is a knot which I must untie. I am thinking a very grave problem out. I shall have no rest, no peace, until I have made up my mind."

"What can be the matter?" inquired Margaret. "Can I help you in any way?"

"No, my dearest," he answered very tenderly, "except by leaving me."

"Is it anything to do with accounts?" she asked. She glanced at the table with its pile of letters and papers. "If so, I could really render you a.s.sistance; I used to keep accounts for Uncle James in the old days.

Two brains are better than one. Let me help you."

"It is a mental problem, Maggie; it relates to morals."

"Oh, dear me, Robert, you are quite mysterious," she said with a ghost of a smile; but then she met his eyes and the trouble in them startled her.

"I wish I could help you," she said. "Do let me."

"You cannot," he replied harshly, for the look in her face added to his tortures. "I shall come to a conclusion presently. When I come to it I will return to the house."

"Then we are not to wait up for you? It is getting quite late, long past nine o'clock."

"Do not wait up for me; leave the side door on the latch; I'll come in presently when I have made up my mind on this important matter."

She approached the door unwillingly; when she reached the threshold she turned and faced him.

"I cannot but see that you are worried about something," she said. "I know, Robert, that you will have strength to do what is right. I cannot imagine what your worry can be, but a moral problem with you must mean the victory of right over wrong."

"Maggie, you drive me mad," he called after her, but his voice was hoa.r.s.e, and it did not reach her ears. She closed the door, and he heard her retreating footsteps on the gravel outside. He locked the door once more.

"There spoke G.o.d and my good angel," he murmured to himself. "Help me, Powers of Evil, if I am to follow you; give me strength to walk the path of the lowest."

These words had scarcely risen in the form of an awful prayer when once again he heard his wife's voice at the door. She was tapping and calling to him at the same time. He opened the door.

"Well?" he said.

"I am sorry to disturb you," she replied, "but you really must put off all your reflections for the time being. Who do you think has just arrived?"

"Who?" he asked in a listless voice.

"Your old friend and mine, Dr. Rumsey."

"Rumsey!" replied Awdrey, "he would be a strong advocate on your side, Maggie."

"On my side?" she queried.

"I cannot explain myself. I think I'll see Rumsey. It would be possible for me to put a question to him which I could not put to you--ask him to come to me."

"He shall come at once," she answered, "I am heartily glad that he is here."

So he turned back and went to the house--she ran up the front steps--Rumsey was in the hall.

"My hearty congratulations," he said, coming up to her. "Your letter contained such good news that I could not forbear hurrying down to Grandcourt to take a peep at my strange patient; I always call Awdrey my strange patient. Is it true that he is now quite well?"

"Half an hour ago I should have said yes," replied Margaret; "but----"

"Any recurrence of the old symptoms?" asked the doctor.

"No, nothing of that sort. Perhaps the excitement has been too much for him. Come into the library, will you?"

She entered as she spoke, the doctor following her.

"I wrote to you when I was abroad," continued Margaret, "telling you the simple fact that my husband's state of health had gone from better to better. He recovered tone of mind and body in the most rapid degree.

This morning I considered him a man of perfect physical health and of keen brilliant intellect. You know during the five years when the cloud was over his brain he refused to read, and lost grip of all pa.s.sing events. There is no subject now of general interest that he cannot talk about--all matters of public concern arouse his keenest sympathies.

To-day he has been nominated to stand for his const.i.tuency, vacant by the death of our late member. I have no doubt that he will represent us in the House when Parliament next sits."

"Or perhaps before this one rises," said the doctor. "Well, Mrs. Awdrey, all this sounds most encouraging, but your 'but' leads to something not so satisfactory, does it not?"

"That is so; at the present moment I do not like his state. He was out and about all day, but instead of returning home to dinner went straight to his office, where he now is. As far as I can see, he is doing no special work, but he will not come into the house. He tells me that he is facing a problem which he also says is a moral one. He refuses to leave the office until he has come to a satisfactory conclusion."

"Come, he is overdoing it," said the doctor.

"I think so. I told him just now that you had arrived; he asked me to bring you to him; will you come?"

"With pleasure."

"Can you do without a meal until you have seen him?"

"Certainly; take me to him at once."

Mrs. Awdrey left the house, and took Dr. Rumsey round by the side walk which led to the office. The door was now slightly ajar; Margaret entered the doctor following behind her.

"Well, my friend," said Dr. Rumsey, in his cheerful voice, "it is good to see you back in your old place again. Your wife's letter was so satisfactory that I could not resist the temptation of coming to see you for myself."

"I am in perfect health," replied Awdrey. "Sit down, won't you, Rumsey?

Margaret, my dear, do you mind leaving us?"