“James Scarlett,” he said firmly, “I hold a double position here: I am your old friend – I am your doctor.”
“Yes,” said Scarlett in a whisper, but without changing his position.
“I am going to speak the simple truth; I am going to hide nothing. I am about to give you plain facts. Will you trust me?”
“Yes. I have always trusted you.”
“Will you believe me? I need not swear?”
“No, Jack, no,” said Scarlett, letting his hands fall from his haggard face. “I believe your word: I do indeed.”
“You asked me not to leave you.”
“Yes: for heaven’s sake, stay.”
“I will not leave you; and if I can, I’ll bring you back to health.”
“Yes,” said Scarlett, shuddering. “And you will not let them drag me away. Jack! – Kate has been planning it with Arthur – an asylum – and I dare not speak, I should be so violent, and make it worse.”
“You shan’t be dragged away, old man, and you need not fancy that any such plans are being made.”
“Even if it came to the worst,” said Scarlett pitifully, “you could keep me down. O Jack, I could not bear it; I’d sooner die!”
“Let me speak out at once, my dear boy,” said the doctor. “The terrible shock to your nerves has made you so weak that you fancy all these things. It is the natural outcome of such a state as yours. Now, listen: you said you would believe me.”
“Yes, yes; and I will.”
“I am glad you have spoken. I knew all this; but I am not sorry you indorsed it. You are haunted by a horrible dread that you are about to lose your reason.”
“Yes,” moaned Scarlett; “and it is so hard – so hard!”
“Then you may take this comfort to your heart: you are not in the slightest degree likely to become insane; and, what is more, I am as good as certain that, sooner or later, you will recover your health.”
“Jack!”
“You said that you would trust in me.”
“Yes – I did – and I will try – so hard. There, I am trying – you see how I am trying. Stand by me, Jack, and help me. Tell me what to do – do you hear! Tell me what to do!”
“I will,” cried Scales. “Give me your hand. Stand up – like a man. Now, grasp it firmly. Firmly, man; a good grip. – That’s better. Now, listen! What are you to do?”
“Yes: tell me quickly. My own strength is gone.”
“I’ll tell you, then,” said the doctor. “Give yourself up to me as if you were a man who could not swim.”
“Don’t talk about the water, Jack. For God’s sake, don’t!”
“I will talk about the water, and you shall listen. Now, then, you must act as if you were helpless and I a strong swimmer. You must trust to me. Recollect, if you struggle and fight against me, you must drown – morally drown: the black waters will close over your spirit, and nothing that I can do will save you. Now, then, drowning man, is it to be trust in the swimmer? – That’s right!” he cried, as Scarlett placed his hands upon his arm – “that’s well. I won’t leave you, James Scarlett, till you are sound and strong as I am now!”
The stricken man made an effort to speak, but the words would not come. He could only gaze wistfully in his friend’s face, his wild eyes looking his gratitude, while they seemed to promise the fidelity of a dog.
“That’s right, old fellow. Now, we pretty well understand each other, only I’ve got to preach at you a little. First of all, I must have full confidence, you know. You must come to me with every symptom and sensation.”
“I will tell you everything,” said Scarlett humbly.
“And I would just make up my mind to meet my troubles like a man. You have yours now; and they come the more painfully after a long course of prosperity and happiness; but even then, old fellow, life is too good a gift to talk of throwing it away.”
Scarlett shuddered, and the doctor watched him narrowly.
“Existence accompanied by a most awful fit of neuralgia would not be pleasant; but all the same I would not refuse it, even with those conditions, for the intervals when the neuralgia is not stinging you are about the most delicious moments by contrast that can be imagined.”
“Yes, yes; of course.”
“Well, then, now let us go and join them on the lawn. What do you say to beginning to fight the nervous foe at once?”
“Yes, at once,” said Scarlett, speaking as if under the influence of the doctor.
“Come along, then; and we shall master yet.”
Scarlett hesitated and hung back; but the doctor did not speak. He could see that his patient was trying to avoid his eye. Once Scarlett glanced up, but the look was rapid as lightning. He saw that the doctor was watching him, and he avoided his look again instantly, like a schoolboy who had committed some fault. At the end of a minute, though, he gradually raised his eyes again, slowly and furtively, and in a way that troubled the doctor more than he would have cared to own; but he had his consolation directly in finding his patient gazing fully at him while Scarlett uttered a low sigh of satisfaction, as if he rejoiced at being in charge of a stronger will than his own; and then, without a word, they moved towards the lawn.
“I must do my bit of fighting too,” said the doctor to himself, as his eyes fell upon Lady Martlett. “She’s very handsome; she knows it; and she wants to make me feel it; but she shall not. – Humph! How that fellow Prayle hangs about Lady Scarlett’s side. They can’t always be wanting to talk over business matters.”
“Well, James, have you had a pleasant stroll?” said Aunt Sophia, as the two men joined the group.
“Yes – very,” he answered quietly.
“Have you seen how the peaches are getting on upon the little bush?” she continued.
“I? No. I have not been in the peach-house for days.”
“You don’t go half often enough. Let’s go now.”
“What, I? N – ” The poor fellow met the doctor’s eye, and said hastily: “Well, yes; I will, aunt. – Will you come too, Naomi?”
“O yes,” cried the girl eagerly.
“Perhaps Lady Martlett will come and see the rosy-cheeked beauties of the peach-house?” said the doctor half-mockingly. – “She’ll give me such a snub,” he added to himself.
“Yes; I should like to see them,” said her Ladyship quietly; “my gardener tells me that they are far more beautiful than mine.”
“I should have thought it impossible,” cried the doctor. “Your Ladyship’s wealth and position ought to be able to secure for you everything.”
“But it does not,” said Lady Martlett; “not even such a simple thing as deference or respect.”
“Ah, but money could not buy those – at least not genuine, sterling qualities of that kind, Lady Martlett,” said the doctor, as they moved towards the end of the garden.
“So it seems, Doctor Scales.”
“There are some people who even have the impertinence to look down upon the rich who do not carry their honours with graceful humility.”
“How dares he speak to me like this!” thought Lady Martlett; “but I’ll humble him yet.”
“Let me see,” she replied coolly; “what do you cull that class of person – a radical, is it not?”
“Yes; I suppose that is the term.”
“And I understand that there are radicals of all kinds: in politics; in those who pass judgment on social behaviour; and even in medicine.”
“That’s a clever thrust,” thought the doctor. – “Just so, Lady Martlett; and I am one of the radicals in medicine.”
“Of course, then, not in social matters, Doctor Scales?”
“Will your Ladyship deign to notice the tints upon these peaches?” said the doctor evasively. – “Here is one,” he said, lowering his voice, “that seems as if it had been mocking you, when your cheek is flushed with the exercise of riding, and you imperiously command the first poor wretch who passes your way to open the gate.”
“The peaches look very fine,” said her Ladyship, refusing to notice the remark – “much finer than mine, dear Lady Scarlett. My head-gardener says that some disease has attacked the leaves.”
“You should invite Doctor Scales over to treat the ailment,” said Aunt Sophia archly. – “My dear James, what is the matter?”
“It is too bad – it is disgraceful!” cried Scarlett, stamping his foot. “Because I am weak and ill, every one imposes on me. That old scoundrel has been neglecting everything.”
“What! Monnick?” cried Aunt Sophia.
“Yes. No one else has the key. Ah! here you are,” he said more angrily, “look, Kate, you ought to be more particular. These keys should be brought to you.”
“What is wrong, dear?” said Lady Scarlett anxiously, as she came down that side of the peach-house, closely followed by Prayle.
“Everything is wrong,” cried the unhappy man, gazing at her wildly. “I cannot bear it.” He hurried from the peach-house, followed by the doctor, who calmed him by degrees.
“Some of the best peaches stolen,” he cried. “It is too bad; I set such a store by them.”
“And I set such store by your recovery, old fellow,” said the doctor. “That was a wretched fit of temper; but it’s over now. Don’t worry about it, man; and now go and lie down till dinner-time.”
“No – no: I have no wish to – ”
“Mind what I say. – Yes, you have, my dear boy. Come: a quiet nap till dinner-time, and then you will have forgotten this petty trouble, and be fresh and cool.”
Scarlett sighed and walked slowly to the house, his companion seeing him lie down before going to his own room, and taking up a book which he read till it was time to get ready for the evening meal. Then he made his few simple preparations and strolled out into the garden again, to think out his plans and go over the events of the day and the possibility of his effecting a permanent cure. Item: to think a little about his own sore place, and how long it would take to heal up so thoroughly that he could always with impunity look Lady Martlett in the face.
Volume Two – Chapter Four.
Mr Saxby has Aspirations
A couple of months had passed.
“Mr Saxby wants to speak to you, ma’am,” said Fanny; and Aunt Sophia jumped up in a pet. “What does he want now? This is four times he has been down this month. Where is he?”
“In the study, ma’am. He wouldn’t come in here.”
Aunt Sophia entered the study to find quite a strong odour in the room. It was something between lemon-scented verbena and magnolia; and as soon as she noticed it, she began to sniff, with the result that the busy City man, so strong in his office, so weak outside, began to turn red.
“Well, Mr Saxby,” said Aunt Sophia, “have you sold those consols for me?”
“Yes, ma’am, as you insisted; but you’ll excuse me, I’m sure, when I tell you that – ”
“There, there, there, man! I know what you are going to say; but it is my own money, and I shall do with it what I please, and – ” Sniff, sniff, sniff. “Whatever is it smells so strong?”
“Strong, ma’am, strong?” said Mr Saxby, wiping his brow, for Aunt Sophia had a peculiar effect upon him, causing him to grow moist about the palms of his hands and dew to form upon his temples.
“Why, it’s that handkerchief, man: and you’ve been putting scent upon your hair!”
“Well, a little, ma’am, just a little,” said Saxby, with a smile that was more indicative of feebleness than strength. “I was coming into the country, you see, and, ahem! – sweets to the sweet.”
“Stuff! – How about that money.”
“There’s the cheque, ma’am,” said Mr Saxby, taking out his pocket-book; “but I give it to you with regret; and – let me beg of you, my dear madam, to be guided by me.”
“That will do, Saxby. I know what I am about; and now, I suppose, you have some eligible investment to propose?”
“Well, no, my dear madam; no. Things are very quiet. Money’s cheap as dirt.”
“May I ask, then, why you have come down?”
“The – er – the cheque, my dear madam.”
“Might very well have come by post, Mr Saxby.”
“Yes, but I was anxious to see and hear about how poor Sir James is getting on; to say a few words of condolence to Lady Scarlett. I esteem them both very highly, Miss Raleigh; I do indeed.”
“Dear me! Ah!” said Aunt Sophia; “and – Shall I finish for you, Saxby?”
“Finish for me, my dear madam? I do not understand.”
“Then I will, Saxby: you thought that if you came down and brought the cheque, you might perhaps see my niece.”
“My dear madam! My dear Miss Raleigh! Really, my dear madam!”
“Don’t be a sham, Saxby. Own it like a man.”
Mr Saxby looked helplessly round the room, as if in search of help, even of an open door through which he could escape; but there was none; and whenever he looked straight before him, there was the unrelenting eye of the elderly maiden lady fixed upon him, and seeming to read him through and through. He wished that he had not come; he wished that he could bring his office effrontery down with him; he wished that he could make Aunt Sophia quail, as he could his clerks; but all in vain. Aunt Sophia, to use her own words, could turn him round her finger when she had him there, and at last he gasped out:
“Well, there, I’ll be honest about it – I did.”
“I didn’t need telling,” said Aunt Sophia. “I believe, Saxby, I could even tell you what you are thinking now.”
“Oh nonsense, ma’am – nonsense!”
“Oh yes, I could,” said Aunt Sophia sharply. “You were thinking that I was a wretched old griffin, and you wished I was dead.”
“Wrong!” cried Saxby triumphantly, and speaking more like himself. “I’ll own to the griffin; but hang me if I will to the wishing you dead!”
“Why, you know you think she’ll have my money, Saxby.”
“Hang your money, ma’am!” cried the stockbroker sharply. “I’ve got plenty of my own, and can make more; and as to yours – why, if it hadn’t been for me, you wouldn’t have a penny. It would be all gone in some swindling company. I – I beg your pardon, Miss Raleigh; I – ah – really – ah – I’m afraid I rather forgot myself – I – ”
“You’re quite right, Saxby, quite right,” said Aunt Sophia quietly. “I’m afraid I am a very stupid, sanguine old woman over money matters, and you have saved me several times. But now about Naomi. Whatever is it you want?”
“What do I want?” said Saxby.
“Yes. Why do you come hanging about here like this? Do you want to marry the girl?”
“Well – er – yes, my dear madam; to be candid, that is what I thought. For ever since the day when I first set – ”
“Thank you: that will do, Saxby. Rhapsodies do sound such silly stuff to people at my age. Really, if you talk like that, I shall feel as if it would be madness to come to consult you again on business.”
“But really, my dear madam – ”
“Yes,” said Aunt Sophia, interrupting; “I know. Well, then, we’ll grant that you like her.”
“Like her, madam? I worship her?”
“No: don’t, my good man. Let’s be sensible, if we can. My niece Naomi is a very nice, amiable, good girl.”
“She’s an angel, ma’am!”
“No; she is not,” said Aunt Sophia stiffly; “and so the man who marries her will find. She’s only a nice English girl, and I don’t want her feelings hurt by any one.”
“Miss Raleigh, it would be my study to spare her feelings in every way.”
“If you had the opportunity, my good man. As it happens, I must speak plainly to you, and tell you that I am afraid she has formed an attachment to Mr Prayle.”
“To him!” groaned Saxby.
“Now, look here, Mr Saxby; if you are going to act sensibly, I’ll talk to you; if you are going on like that, I’ve done. This is not part of a play.”
“Yes, ma’am, it is,” said Saxby dolefully; “the tragedy of my life.”
“Now, don’t be a goose, Saxby. If the girl likes somebody else better than you, don’t go making yourself miserable about it. Have some common-sense.”
Saxby shook his head.
“There’s no common-sense in love.”
Aunt Sophia looked at him in a half-pitying, half-contemptuous manner. “It isn’t very deep, is it?” she said good-humouredly.
“I don’t know,” he said; “only, that somehow she’s seemed to me to be like the flowers; and when I’ve gone to my office every morning, I’ve bought a rose or something of that kind, and put it in water, and it’s been company to me, as if she were there all the time. And now, after what you’ve told me, ma’am, I don’t think I shall ever buy a rose again.” He got up, walked to the window and looked out, so that Aunt Sophia should not see his face.
“Poor fellow!” she said softly to herself, and it was evident that her sympathies were touched.
“Mr Prayle has not spoken to Naomi yet,” she said, and there was a smile in her eye as she saw the sudden start that Saxby gave, and the look of hope that came back into his countenance as he turned round and faced her.
“Does he – does he – care for her very much?” said Saxby.
Aunt Sophia hesitated for a few moments, and then seemed to make up her mind. “I don’t know,” she said; “but I’ll speak plainly to you, Saxby, for I like you.”
“You – Miss Raleigh! – you – like – me?”
“Yes. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because – because – ”
“Yes; I know. Because you opposed me sometimes. Well, a woman likes to be opposed. Some stupid people say that a woman likes to have her own way in everything. It isn’t true. She likes to find some one who will and who does master her. It’s her nature, Saxby, and whenever you find anyone who asserts the contrary, set him or her down as ignorant or an impostor.”
“But don’t raise my hopes, Miss Raleigh, don’t, pray, if there’s no chance for me.”
“I’m not going to raise your hopes – not much. I shall only say to you, that I am sorry about my niece’s leanings, and that, perhaps, after all, it is but a girlish fancy. If I were a man – ”
“Yes, Miss Raleigh, if you were a man?”
“And cared for a woman, I should never give her up till I saw that my case was quite hopeless.”
“Miss Raleigh,” cried the stockbroker excitedly, “your words are like fresh air in a hot office. One thinks more clearly; life seems better worth living for; and there’s a general rise of one’s natural stock all over a fellow’s market. – Might I kiss your hand?”
“No,” cried Aunt Sophia; “but you may behave sensibly. Stop down a day or two, and see how the land lies.”
“May I?”
“Yes; I’ll answer for your welcome. – And now, mind this: I’m not going to interfere with my niece and her likes and dislikes; but let me give you a bit of advice.”
“If you would!” exclaimed Saxby.
“Then don’t go about sighing like a bull-goose. Women don’t care for such weak silly creatures. Naomi’s naturally weak, and what she looks for in a man is strength both in brain and body.”
“Yes, I see,” said Saxby sadly. “I under stand stocks and shares, but I don’t understand women.”
“Of course you don’t. No man yet ever did; not even Solomon, with all his experience; and no man ever will.”
“But, I thought, Miss Raleigh – I hoped – ”
“Well, what did you think and hope?”
“That you might help me – as an old and trustworthy friend – about Miss Naomi.”
“Why, bless the boy – man, I mean – if I were to tell Naomi to love you, or that she was to be your wife, she’d do as all girls do.”
“What’s that, Miss Raleigh?”
“What’s that? Why, go off at a tangent, whatever that may be, and marry Prayle at once.”
“Ah, yes, I suppose so,” faltered Saxby.
“Well, well, pluck up your spirits, man, and be what you are at your office. I do trust you Saxby; and to show you my confidence, I’ll tell you frankly that I should be deeply grieved if anything came of her leanings towards that smooth, good-looking fellow. – There, what stuff I am talking. You ought to be able to get on without advice from me.”
Then Aunt Sophia smiled and nodded her head at the stockbroker, after which she sailed out of the room, leaving him hopeful and ready to take heart of grace, even though just then he saw Arthur Prayle go by in company with the object of his aspirations. Certainly, though, Lady Scarlett, was with them; while directly after, Sir James Scarlett passed, hanging upon Scales’s arm; and the aspect of the baronet’s face startled Saxby, who was clever enough at reading countenances, possessing as he did all the shrewdness of the dealer in questions of the purse. For in that face he read, or fancied he read, hopeless misery, jealousy, and distrust mingled in one.
“Why,” exclaimed Saxby, as they passed 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 Two – Chapter Five.
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 screwing 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 substitute 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 Ladyship 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?”
