CHAPTER XXXIV
A Barouche and Four Arrives at Greshamsbury
During the last twelve months Sir Louis Scatcherd had been veryefficacious in bringing trouble, turmoil, and vexation uponGreshamsbury. Now that it was too late to take steps to save himself,Dr Thorne found that the will left by Sir Roger was so made as toentail upon him duties that he would find it almost impossible toperform. Sir Louis, though his father had wished to make him stilla child in the eye of the law, was no child. He knew his own rightsand was determined to exact them; and before Sir Roger had been deadthree months, the doctor found himself in continual litigation witha low Barchester attorney, who was acting on behalf of his, thedoctor's, own ward.
And if the doctor suffered so did the squire, and so did those whohad hitherto had the management of the squire's affairs. Dr Thornesoon perceived that he was to be driven into litigation, not onlywith Mr Finnie, the Barchester attorney, but with the squire himself.While Finnie harassed him, he was compelled to harass Mr Gresham. Hewas no lawyer himself; and though he had been able to manage verywell between the squire and Sir Roger, and had perhaps given himselfsome credit for his lawyer-like ability in so doing, he was utterlyunable to manage between Sir Louis and Mr Gresham.
He had, therefore, to employ a lawyer on his own account, and itseemed probable that the whole amount of Sir Roger's legacy tohimself would by degrees be expended in this manner. And then, thesquire's lawyers had to take up the matter; and they did so greatlyto the detriment of poor Mr Yates Umbleby, who was found to have madea mess of the affairs entrusted to him. Mr Umbleby's accounts wereincorrect; his mind was anything but clear, and he confessed, whenput to it by the very sharp gentleman that came down from London,that he was "bothered;" and so, after a while, he was suspended fromhis duties, and Mr Gazebee, the sharp gentleman from London, reignedover the diminished rent-roll of the Greshamsbury estate.
Thus everything was going wrong at Greshamsbury--with the oneexception of Mr Oriel and his love-suit. Miss Gushing attributedthe deposition of Mr Umbleby to the narrowness of the victory whichBeatrice had won in carrying off Mr Oriel. For Miss Gushing was arelation of the Umblebys, and had been for many years one of theirfamily. "If she had only chosen to exert herself as Miss Gresham haddone, she could have had Mr Oriel, easily; oh, too easily! but shehad despised such work," so she said. "But though she had despisedit, the Greshams had not been less irritated, and, therefore, MrUmbleby had been driven out of his house." We can hardly believethis, as victory generally makes men generous. Miss Gushing, however,stated it as a fact so often that it is probable she was induced tobelieve it herself.
Thus everything was going wrong at Greshamsbury, and the squirehimself was especially a sufferer. Umbleby had at any rate been hisown man, and he could do what he liked with him. He could see himwhen he liked, and where he liked, and how he liked; could scold himif in an ill-humour, and laugh at him when in a good humour. All thisMr Umbleby knew, and bore. But Mr Gazebee was a very different sortof gentleman; he was the junior partner in the firm of Gumption,Gazebee & Gazebee, of Mount Street, a house that never defileditself with any other business than the agency business, and that inthe very highest line. They drew out leases, and managed propertyboth for the Duke of Omnium and Lord de Courcy; and ever since hermarriage, it had been one of the objects dearest to Lady Arabella'sheart, that the Greshamsbury acres should be superintended by thepolite skill and polished legal ability of that all but elegant firmin Mount Street.
The squire had long stood firm, and had delighted in havingeverything done under his own eye by poor Mr Yates Umbleby. But now,alas! he could stand it no longer. He had put off the evil day aslong as he could; he had deferred the odious work of investigationtill things had seemed resolved on investigating themselves; andthen, when it was absolutely necessary that Mr Umbleby should go,there was nothing for him left but to fall into the ready hands ofMessrs Gumption, Gazebee and Gazebee.
It must not be supposed that Messrs Gumption, Gazebee & Gazebeewere in the least like the ordinary run of attorneys. They wroteno letters for six-and-eightpence each: they collected no debts,filed no bills, made no charge per folio for "whereases" and "asaforesaids;" they did no dirty work, and probably were as ignorantof the interior of a court of law as any young lady living in theirMayfair vicinity. No; their business was to manage the property ofgreat people, draw up leases, make legal assignments, get the familymarriage settlements made, and look after wills. Occasionally, also,they had to raise money; but it was generally understood that thiswas done by proxy.
The firm had been going on for a hundred and fifty years, and thedesignation had often been altered; but it always consisted ofGumptions and Gazebees differently arranged, and no less hallowednames had ever been permitted to appear. It had been Gazebee, Gazebee& Gumption then Gazebee & Gumption then Gazebee, Gumption &Gumption then Gumption, Gumption & Gazebee; and now it was Gumption,Gazebee & Gazebee.
Mr Gazebee, the junior member of this firm, was a very elegant youngman. While looking at him riding in Rotten Row, you would hardly havetaken him for an attorney; and had he heard that you had so takenhim, he would have been very much surprised indeed. He was ratherbald; not being, as people say, quite so young as he was once. Hisexact age was thirty-eight. But he had a really remarkable pair ofjet-black whiskers, which fully made up for any deficiency as to hishead; he had also dark eyes, and a beaked nose, what may be called adistinguished mouth, and was always dressed in fashionable attire.The fact was, that Mr Mortimer Gazebee, junior partner in the firmGumption, Gazebee & Gazebee, by no means considered himself to bemade of that very disagreeable material which mortals call smallbeer.
When this great firm was applied to, to get Mr Gresham through hisdifficulties, and when the state of his affairs was made known tothem, they at first expressed rather a disinclination for the work.But at last, moved doubtless by their respect for the de Courcyinterest, they assented; and Mr Gazebee, junior, went down toGreshamsbury. The poor squire passed many a sad day after that beforehe again felt himself to be master even of his own domain.
Nevertheless, when Mr Mortimer Gazebee visited Greshamsbury, whichhe did on more than one or two occasions, he was always received _engrand seigneur_. To Lady Arabella he was by no means an unwelcomeguest, for she found herself able, for the first time in her life, tospeak confidentially on her husband's pecuniary affairs with the manwho had the management of her husband's property. Mr Gazebee also wasa pet with Lady de Courcy; and being known to be a fashionable man inLondon, and quite a different sort of person from poor Mr Umbleby,he was always received with smiles. He had a hundred little ways ofmaking himself agreeable, and Augusta declared to her cousin, theLady Amelia, after having been acquainted with him for a few months,that he would be a perfect gentleman, only, that his family hadnever been anything but attorneys. The Lady Amelia smiled in her ownpeculiarly aristocratic way, shrugged her shoulders slightly, andsaid, "that Mr Mortimer Gazebee was a very good sort of a person,very." Poor Augusta felt herself snubbed, thinking perhaps of thetailor's son but as there was never any appeal against the LadyAmelia, she said nothing more at that moment in favour of Mr MortimerGazebee.
All these evils--Mr Mortimer Gazebee being the worst of them--had SirLouis Scatcherd brought down on the poor squire's head. There may bethose who will say that the squire had brought them on himself, byrunning into debt; and so, doubtless, he had; but it was not the lesstrue that the baronet's interference was unnecessary, vexatious, andone might almost say, malicious. His interest would have been quitesafe in the doctor's hands, and he had, in fact, no legal right tomeddle; but neither the doctor nor the squire could prevent him. MrFinnie knew very well what he was about, if Sir Louis did not; andso the three went on, each with his own lawyer, and each of themdistrustful, unhappy, and ill at ease. This was hard upon the doctor,for he was not in debt, and had borrowed no money.
There was not much reason to suppose that the visit of Sir Louis toGreshamsbury would much improve matters. It
must be presumed that hewas not coming with any amicable views, but with the object ratherof looking after his own; a phrase which was now constantly in hismouth. He might probably find it necessary while looking after hisown at Greshamsbury, to say some very disagreeable things to thesquire; and the doctor, therefore, hardly expected that the visitwould go off pleasantly.
When last we saw Sir Louis, now nearly twelve months since, hewas intent on making a proposal of marriage to Miss Thorne. Thisintention he carried out about two days after Frank Gresham had donethe same thing. He had delayed doing so till he had succeeded inpurchasing his friend Jenkins's Arab pony, imagining that such apresent could not but go far in weaning Mary's heart from her otherlover. Poor Mary was put to the trouble of refusing both the baronetand the pony, and a very bad time she had of it while doing so. SirLouis was a man easily angered, and not very easily pacified, andMary had to endure a good deal of annoyance; from any other person,indeed, she would have called it impertinence. Sir Louis, however,had to bear his rejection as best he could, and, after a perseveranceof three days, returned to London in disgust; and Mary had not seenhim since.
Mr Greyson's first letter was followed by a second; and the secondwas followed by the baronet in person. He also required to bereceived _en grand seigneur_, perhaps more imperatively than MrMortimer Gazebee himself. He came with four posters from theBarchester Station, and had himself rattled up to the doctor's doorin a way that took the breath away from all Greshamsbury. Why! thesquire himself for a many long year had been contented to come homewith a pair of horses; and four were never seen in the place, exceptwhen the de Courcys came to Greshamsbury, or Lady Arabella with allher daughters returned from her hard-fought metropolitan campaigns.
Sir Louis, however, came with four, and very arrogant he looked,leaning back in the barouche belonging to the George and Dragon,and wrapped up in fur, although it was now midsummer. And up in thedicky behind was a servant, more arrogant, if possible, than hismaster--the baronet's own man, who was the object of Dr Thorne'sspecial detestation and disgust. He was a little fellow, chosenoriginally on account of his light weight on horseback; but if thatmay be considered a merit, it was the only one he had. His out-doorshow dress was a little tight frock-coat, round which a polishedstrap was always buckled tightly, a stiff white choker, leatherbreeches, top-boots, and a hat, with a cockade, stuck on one sideof his head. His name was Jonah, which his master and his master'sfriends shortened into Joe; none, however, but those who were veryintimate with his master were allowed to do so with impunity.
This Joe was Dr Thorne's special aversion. In his anxiety to takeevery possible step to keep Sir Louis from poisoning himself, he hadat first attempted to enlist the baronet's "own man" in the cause.Joe had promised fairly, but had betrayed the doctor at once, andhad become the worst instrument of his master's dissipation. When,therefore, his hat and the cockade were seen, as the carriage dashedup to the door, the doctor's contentment was by no means increased.
Sir Louis was now twenty-three years old, and was a great deal tooknowing to allow himself to be kept under the doctor's thumb. Ithad, indeed, become his plan to rebel against his guardian in almosteverything. He had at first been decently submissive, with the viewof obtaining increased supplies of ready money; but he had been sharpenough to perceive that, let his conduct be what it would, the doctorwould keep him out of debt; but that the doing so took so large a sumthat he could not hope for any further advances. In this respect SirLouis was perhaps more keen-witted than Dr Thorne.
Mary, when she saw the carriage, at once ran up to her own bedroom.The doctor, who had been with her in the drawing-room, went down tomeet his ward, but as soon as he saw the cockade he darted almostinvoluntarily into his shop and shut the door. This protection,however, lasted only for a moment; he felt that decency required himto meet his guest, and so he went forth and faced the enemy.
"I say," said Joe, speaking to Janet, who stood curtsying at thegate, with Bridget, the other maid, behind her, "I say, are thereany chaps about the place to take these things--eh? come, look sharphere."
It so happened that the doctor's groom was not on the spot, and"other chaps" the doctor had none.
"Take those things, Bridget," he said, coming forward and offeringhis hand to the baronet. Sir Louis, when he saw his host, rousedhimself slowly from the back of his carriage. "How do, doctor?" saidhe. "What terrible bad roads you have here! and, upon my word, it'sas cold as winter:" and, so saying, he slowly proceeded to descend.
Sir Louis was a year older than when we last saw him, and, in hisgeneration, a year wiser. He had then been somewhat humble before thedoctor; but now he was determined to let his guardian see that heknew how to act the baronet; that he had acquired the manners of agreat man; and that he was not to be put upon. He had learnt somelessons from Jenkins, in London, and other friends of the same sort,and he was about to profit by them.
The doctor showed him to his room, and then proceeded to ask afterhis health. "Oh, I'm right enough," said Sir Louis. "You mustn'tbelieve all that fellow Greyson tells you: he wants me to take saltsand senna, opodeldoc, and all that sort of stuff; looks after hisbill, you know--eh? like all the rest of you. But I won't haveit;--not at any price; and then he writes to you."
"I'm glad to see you able to travel," said Dr Thorne, who could notforce himself to tell his guest that he was glad to see him atGreshamsbury.
"Oh, travel; yes, I can travel well enough. But I wish you had somebetter sort of trap down in these country parts. I'm shaken to bits.And, doctor, would you tell your people to send that fellow of mineup here with hot water."
So dismissed, the doctor went his way, and met Joe swaggering in oneof the passages, while Janet and her colleague dragged along betweenthem a heavy article of baggage.
"Janet," said he, "go downstairs and get Sir Louis some hot water,and Joe, do you take hold of your master's portmanteau."
Joe sulkily did as he was bid. "Seems to me," said he, turning tothe girl, and speaking before the doctor was out of hearing, "seemsto me, my dear, you be rather short-handed here; lots of work andnothing to get; that's about the ticket, ain't it?" Bridget was toodemurely modest to make any answer upon so short an acquaintance; so,putting her end of the burden down at the strange gentleman's door,she retreated into the kitchen.
Sir Louis, in answer to the doctor's inquiries, had declared himselfto be all right; but his appearance was anything but all right.Twelve months since, a life of dissipation, or rather, perhaps, alife of drinking, had not had upon him so strong an effect but thatsome of the salt of youth was still left; some of the freshness ofyoung years might still be seen in his face. But this was now allgone; his eyes were sunken and watery, his cheeks were hollow andwan, his mouth was drawn and his lips dry; his back was even bent,and his legs were unsteady under him, so that he had been forced tostep down from his carriage as an old man would do. Alas, alas! hehad no further chance now of ever being all right again.
Mary had secluded herself in her bedroom as soon as the carriage haddriven up to the door, and there she remained till dinner-time. Butshe could not shut herself up altogether. It would be necessary thatshe should appear at dinner; and, therefore, a few minutes before thehour, she crept out into the drawing-room. As she opened the door,she looked in timidly, expecting Sir Louis to be there; but whenshe saw that her uncle was the only occupant of the room, her browcleared, and she entered with a quick step.
"He'll come down to dinner; won't he, uncle?"
"Oh, I suppose so."
"What's he doing now?"
"Dressing, I suppose; he's been at it this hour."
"But, uncle--"
"Well?"
"Will he come up after dinner, do you think?"
Mary spoke of him as though he were some wild beast, whom her uncleinsisted on having in his house.
"Goodness knows what he will do! Come up? Yes. He will not stay inthe dining-room all night."
"But, dear uncle, do be serious."
&
nbsp; "Serious!"
"Yes; serious. Don't you think that I might go to bed, instead ofwaiting?"
The doctor was saved the trouble of answering by the entrance of thebaronet. He was dressed in what he considered the most fashionablestyle of the day. He had on a new dress-coat lined with satin,new dress-trousers, a silk waistcoat covered with chains, a whitecravat, polished pumps, and silk stockings, and he carried a scentedhandkerchief in his hand; he had rings on his fingers, and carbunclestuds in his shirt, and he smelt as sweet as patchouli could makehim. But he could hardly do more than shuffle into the room, andseemed almost to drag one of his legs behind him.
Mary, in spite of her aversion, was shocked and distressed when shesaw him. He, however, seemed to think himself perfect, and was nowhit abashed by the unfavourable reception which twelve months sincehad been paid to his suit. Mary came up and shook hands with him, andhe received her with a compliment which no doubt he thought must beacceptable. "Upon my word, Miss Thorne, every place seems to agreewith you; one better than another. You were looking charming atBoxall Hill; but, upon my word, charming isn't half strong enoughnow."
Mary sat down quietly, and the doctor assumed a face of unutterabledisgust. This was the creature for whom all his sympathies had beendemanded, all his best energies put in requisition on whose behalfhe was to quarrel with his oldest friends, lose his peace andquietness of life, and exercise all the functions of a loving friend!This was his self-invited guest, whom he was bound to foster, andwhom he could not turn from his door.
Then dinner came, and Mary had to put her hand upon his arm. Shecertainly did not lean upon him, and once or twice felt inclined togive him some support. They reached the dining-room, however, thedoctor following them, and then sat down, Janet waiting in the room,as was usual.
"I say, doctor," said the baronet, "hadn't my man better come inand help? He's got nothing to do, you know. We should be more cosy,shouldn't we?"
"Janet will manage pretty well," said the doctor.
"Oh, you'd better have Joe; there's nothing like a good servant attable. I say, Janet, just send that fellow in, will you?"
"We shall do very well without him," said the doctor, becoming ratherred about the cheek-bones, and with a slight gleam of determinationabout the eye. Janet, who saw how matters stood, made no attempt toobey the baronet's order.
"Oh, nonsense, doctor; you think he's an uppish sort of fellow, Iknow, and you don't like to trouble him; but when I'm near him, he'sall right; just send him in, will you?"
"Sir Louis," said the doctor, "I'm accustomed to none but my own oldwoman here in my own house, and if you will allow me, I'll keep myold ways. I shall be sorry if you are not comfortable." The baronetsaid nothing more, and the dinner passed off slowly and wearilyenough.
When Mary had eaten her fruit and escaped, the doctor got into onearm-chair and the baronet into another, and the latter began the onlywork of existence of which he knew anything.
"That's good port," said he; "very fair port."
The doctor loved his port wine, and thawed a little in his manner. Heloved it not as a toper, but as a collector loves his pet pictures.He liked to talk about it, and think about it; to praise it, and hearit praised; to look at it turned towards the light, and to count overthe years it had lain in his cellar.
"Yes," said he, "it's pretty fair wine. It was, at least, when I gotit, twenty years ago, and I don't suppose time has hurt it;" and heheld the glass up to the window, and looked at the evening lightthrough the ruby tint of the liquid. "Ah, dear, there's not much ofit left; more's the pity."
"A good thing won't last for ever. I'll tell you what now; I wishI'd brought down a dozen or two of claret. I've some prime stuff inLondon got it from Muzzle & Drug, at ninety-six shillings; it wasa great favour, though. I'll tell you what now, I'll send up for acouple of dozen to-morrow. I mustn't drink you out of house, high anddry; must I, doctor?"
The doctor froze immediately.
"I don't think I need trouble you," said he; "I never drink claret,at least not here; and there's enough of the old bin left to lastsome little time longer yet."
Sir Louis drank two or three glasses of wine very quickly after eachother, and they immediately began to tell upon his weak stomach. Butbefore he was tipsy, he became more impudent and more disagreeable.
"Doctor," said he, "when are we to see any of this Greshamsburymoney? That's what I want to know."
"Your money is quite safe, Sir Louis; and the interest is paid to theday."
"Interest, yes; but how do I know how long it will be paid? I shouldlike to see the principal. A hundred thousand pounds, or somethinglike it, is a precious large stake to have in one man's hands, and hepreciously hard up himself. I'll tell you what, doctor--I shall lookthe squire up myself."
"Look him up?"
"Yes; look him up; ferret him out; tell him a bit of my mind. I'llthank you to pass the bottle. D---- me doctor; I mean to know howthings are going on."
"Your money is quite safe," repeated the doctor, "and, to my mind,could not be better invested."
"That's all very well; d---- well, I dare say, for you and SquireGresham--"
"What do you mean, Sir Louis?"
"Mean! why I mean that I'll sell the squire up; that's what Imean--hallo--beg pardon. I'm blessed if I haven't broken thewater-jug. That comes of having water on the table. Oh, d---- me,it's all over me." And then, getting up, to avoid the flood hehimself had caused, he nearly fell into the doctor's arms.
"You're tired with your journey, Sir Louis; perhaps you'd better goto bed."
"Well, I am a bit seedy or so. Those cursed roads of yours shake afellow so."
The doctor rang the bell, and, on this occasion, did request that Joemight be sent for. Joe came in, and, though he was much steadier thanhis master, looked as though he also had found some bin of which hehad approved.
"Sir Louis wishes to go to bed," said the doctor; "you had bettergive him your arm."
"Oh, yes; in course I will," said Joe, standing immoveable abouthalf-way between the door and the table.
"I'll just take one more glass of the old port--eh, doctor?" said SirLouis, putting out his hand and clutching the decanter.
It is very hard for any man to deny his guest in his own house, andthe doctor, at the moment, did not know how to do it; so Sir Louisgot his wine, after pouring half of it over the table.
"Come in, sir, and give Sir Louis your arm," said the doctor,angrily.
"So I will in course, if my master tells me; but, if you please, DrThorne,"--and Joe put his hand up to his hair in a manner that had agreat deal more of impudence than reverence in it--"I just want to axone question: where be I to sleep?"
Now this was a question which the doctor was not prepared to answeron the spur of the moment, however well Janet or Mary might have beenable to do so.
"Sleep," said he, "I don't know where you are to sleep, and don'tcare; ask Janet."
"That's all very well, master--"
"Hold your tongue, sirrah!" said Sir Louis. "What the devil do youwant of sleep?--come here," and then, with his servant's help, hemade his way up to his bedroom, and was no more heard of that night.
"Did he get tipsy," asked Mary, almost in a whisper, when her unclejoined her in the drawing-room.
"Don't talk of it," said he. "Poor wretch! poor wretch! Let'shave some tea now, Molly, and pray don't talk any more about himto-night." Then Mary did make the tea, and did not talk any moreabout Sir Louis that night.
What on earth were they to do with him? He had come thereself-invited; but his connexion with the doctor was such, that itwas impossible he should be told to go away, either he himself, orthat servant of his. There was no reason to disbelieve him when hedeclared that he had come down to ferret out the squire. Such was,doubtless, his intention. He would ferret out the squire. Perhaps hemight ferret out Lady Arabella also. Frank would be home in a fewdays; and he, too, might be ferreted out.
But the matter took a very singular turn, an
d one quite unexpectedon the doctor's part. On the morning following the little dinner ofwhich we have spoken, one of the Greshamsbury grooms rode up to thedoctor's door with two notes. One was addressed to the doctor in thesquire's well-known large handwriting, and the other was for SirLouis. Each contained an invitation to dinner for the following day;and that to the doctor was in this wise:--
DEAR DOCTOR,
Do come and dine here to-morrow, and bring Sir Louis Scatcherd with you. If you're the man I take you to be, you won't refuse me. Lady Arabella sends a note for Sir Louis. There will be nobody here but Oriel, and Mr Gazebee, who is staying in the house.
Yours ever,
F. N. GRESHAM.
Greshamsbury, July, 185--.
P.S.--I make a positive request that you'll come, and I think you will hardly refuse me.
The doctor read it twice before he could believe it, and then orderedJanet to take the other note up to Sir Louis. As these invitationswere rather in opposition to the then existing Greshamsbury tactics,the cause of Lady Arabella's special civility must be explained.
Mr Mortimer Gazebee was now at the house, and therefore, it mustbe presumed, that things were not allowed to go on after their oldfashion. Mr Gazebee was an acute as well as a fashionable man; onewho knew what he was about, and who, moreover, had determined to givehis very best efforts on behalf of the Greshamsbury property. Hisenergy, in this respect, will explain itself hereafter. It was notprobable that the arrival in the village of such a person as SirLouis Scatcherd should escape attention. He had heard of it beforedinner, and, before the evening was over, had discussed it with LadyArabella.
Her ladyship was not at first inclined to make much of Sir Louis, andexpressed herself as but little inclined to agree with Mr Gazebeewhen that gentleman suggested that he should be treated with civilityat Greshamsbury. But she was at last talked over. She found itpleasant enough to have more to do with the secret management of theestate than Mr Gresham himself; and when Mr Gazebee proved to her,by sundry nods and winks, and subtle allusions to her own infinitegood sense, that it was necessary to catch this obscene bird whichhad come to prey upon the estate, by throwing a little salt upon histail, she also nodded and winked, and directed Augusta to prepare thesalt according to order.
"But won't it be odd, Mr Gazebee, asking him out of Dr Thorne'shouse?"
"Oh, we must have the doctor, too, Lady Arabella; by all means askthe doctor also."
Lady Arabella's brow grew dark. "Mr Gazebee," she said, "you canhardly believe how that man has behaved to me."
"He is altogether beneath your anger," said Mr Gazebee, with a bow.
"I don't know: in one way he may be, but not in another. I really donot think I can sit down to table with Doctor Thorne."
But, nevertheless, Mr Gazebee gained his point. It was now about aweek since Sir Omicron Pie had been at Greshamsbury, and the squirehad, almost daily, spoken to his wife as to that learned man'sadvice. Lady Arabella always answered in the same tone: "You canhardly know, Mr Gresham, how that man has insulted me." But,nevertheless, the physician's advice had not been disbelieved: ittallied too well with her own inward convictions. She was anxiousenough to have Doctor Thorne back at her bedside, if she could onlyget him there without damage to her pride. Her husband, she thought,might probably send the doctor there without absolute permission fromherself; in which case she would have been able to scold, and showthat she was offended; and, at the same time, profit by what had beendone. But Mr Gresham never thought of taking so violent a step asthis, and, therefore, Dr Fillgrave still came, and her ladyship's_finesse_ was wasted in vain.
But Mr Gazebee's proposition opened a door by which her point mightbe gained. "Well," said she, at last, with infinite self-denial, "ifyou think it is for Mr Gresham's advantage, and if he chooses to askDr Thorne, I will not refuse to receive him."
Mr Gazebee's next task was to discuss the matter with the squire. Norwas this easy, for Mr Gazebee was no favourite with Mr Gresham. Butthe task was at last performed successfully. Mr Gresham was so gladat heart to find himself able, once more, to ask his old friend tohis own house; and, though it would have pleased him better that thissign of relenting on his wife's part should have reached him by othermeans, he did not refuse to take advantage of it; and so he wrote theabove letter to Dr Thorne.
The doctor, as we have said, read it twice; and he at once resolvedstoutly that he would not go.
"Oh, do, do go!" said Mary. She well knew how wretched this feud hadmade her uncle. "Pray, pray go!"
"Indeed, I will not," said he. "There are some things a man shouldbear, and some he should not."
"You must go," said Mary, who had taken the note from her uncle'shand, and read it. "You cannot refuse him when he asks you likethat."
"It will greatly grieve me; but I must refuse him."
"I also am angry, uncle; very angry with Lady Arabella; but for him,for the squire, I would go to him on my knees if he asked me in thatway."
"Yes; and had he asked you, I also would have gone."
"Oh! now I shall be so wretched. It is his invitation, not hers: MrGresham could not ask me. As for her, do not think of her; but do, dogo when he asks you like that. You will make me so miserable if youdo not. And then Sir Louis cannot go without you,"--and Mary pointedupstairs--"and you may be sure that he will go."
"Yes; and make a beast of himself."
This colloquy was cut short by a message praying the doctor to go upto Sir Louis's room. The young man was sitting in his dressing-gown,drinking a cup of coffee at his toilet-table, while Joe was preparinghis razor and hot water. The doctor's nose immediately told himthat there was more in the coffee-cup than had come out of his ownkitchen, and he would not let the offence pass unnoticed.
"Are you taking brandy this morning, Sir Louis?"
"Just a little _chasse-cafe_," said he, not exactly understandingthe word he used. "It's all the go now; and a capital thing for thestomach."
"It's not a capital thing for your stomach;--about the least capitalthing you can take; that is, if you wish to live."
"Never mind about that now, doctor, but look here. This is what wecall the civil thing--eh?" and he showed the Greshamsbury note. "Notbut what they have an object, of course. I understand all that. Lotsof girls there--eh?"
The doctor took the note and read it. "It is civil," said he; "verycivil."
"Well; I shall go, of course. I don't bear malice because he can'tpay me the money he owes me. I'll eat his dinner, and look at thegirls. Have you an invite too, doctor?"
"Yes; I have."
"And you'll go?"
"I think not; but that need not deter you. But, Sir Louis--"
"Well! eh! what is it?"
"Step downstairs a moment," said the doctor, turning to the servant,"and wait till you are called for. I wish to speak to your master."Joe, for a moment, looked up at the baronet's face, as though hewanted but the slightest encouragement to disobey the doctor'sorders; but not seeing it, he slowly retired, and placed himself, ofcourse, at the keyhole.
And then, the doctor began a long and very useless lecture. The firstobject of it was to induce his ward not to get drunk at Greshamsbury;but having got so far, he went on, and did succeed in frighteninghis unhappy guest. Sir Louis did not possess the iron nerves ofhis father--nerves which even brandy had not been able to subdue.The doctor spoke strongly, very strongly; spoke of quick, almostimmediate death in case of further excesses; spoke to him of thecertainty there would be that he could not live to dispose of his ownproperty if he could not refrain. And thus he did frighten Sir Louis.The father he had never been able to frighten. But there are menwho, though they fear death hugely, fear present suffering more;who, indeed, will not bear a moment of pain if there be any mode ofescape. Sir Louis was such: he had no strength of nerve, no courage,no ability to make a resolution and keep it. He promised the doctorthat he would refrain; and, as he did so, he swallowed down his cupof coffee and brandy, in which
the two articles bore about equalproportions.
The doctor did, at last, make up his mind to go. Whichever way hedetermined, he found that he was not contented with himself. He didnot like to trust Sir Louis by himself, and he did not like to showthat he was angry. Still less did he like the idea of breaking breadin Lady Arabella's house till some amends had been made to Mary. Buthis heart would not allow him to refuse the petition contained inthe squire's postscript, and the matter ended in his accepting theinvitation.
This visit of his ward's was, in every way, pernicious to the doctor.He could not go about his business, fearing to leave such a man alonewith Mary. On the afternoon of the second day, she escaped to theparsonage for an hour or so, and then walked away among the lanes,calling on some of her old friends among the farmers' wives. But eventhen, the doctor was afraid to leave Sir Louis. What could such aman do, left alone in a village like Greshamsbury? So he stayed athome, and the two together went over their accounts. The baronet wasparticular about his accounts, and said a good deal as to havingFinnie over to Greshamsbury. To this, however, Dr Thorne positivelyrefused his consent.
The evening passed off better than the preceding one; at least theearly part of it. Sir Louis did not get tipsy; he came up to tea, andMary, who did not feel so keenly on the subject as her uncle, almostwished that he had done so. At ten o'clock he went to bed.
But after that new troubles came on. The doctor had gone downstairsinto his study to make up some of the time which he had lost, andhad just seated himself at his desk, when Janet, without announcingherself, burst into the room; and Bridget, dissolved in hystericaltears, with her apron to her eyes, appeared behind the seniordomestic.
"Please, sir," said Janet, driven by excitement much beyond herusual pace of speaking, and becoming unintentionally a little lessrespectful than usual, "please sir, that 'ere young man must go outof this here house; or else no respectable young 'ooman can't stophere; no, indeed, sir; and we be sorry to trouble you, Dr Thorne; sowe be."
"What young man? Sir Louis?" asked the doctor.
"Oh, no! he abides mostly in bed, and don't do nothing amiss; leastway not to us. 'Tan't him, sir; but his man."
"Man!" sobbed Bridget from behind. "He an't no man, nor nothinglike a man. If Tummas had been here, he wouldn't have dared; so hewouldn't." Thomas was the groom, and, if all Greshamsbury reportswere true, it was probable, that on some happy, future day, Thomasand Bridget would become one flesh and one bone.
"Please sir," continued Janet, "there'll be bad work here if that'ere young man doesn't quit this here house this very night, and I'msorry to trouble you, doctor; and so I am. But Tom, he be given tofight a'most for nothin'. He's hout now; but if that there young manbe's here when Tom comes home, Tom will be punching his head; I knowhe will."
"He wouldn't stand by and see a poor girl put upon no more hewouldn't," said Bridget, through her tears.
After many futile inquiries, the doctor ascertained that Mr Jonah hadexpressed some admiration for Bridget's youthful charms, and had, inthe absence of Janet, thrown himself at the lady's feet in a mannerwhich had not been altogether pleasing to her. She had defendedherself stoutly and loudly, and in the middle of the row Janet hadcome down.
"And where is he now?" said the doctor.
"Why, sir," said Janet, "the poor girl was so put about that she didgive him one touch across the face with the rolling-pin, and he beall bloody now, in the back kitchen." At hearing this achievement ofhers thus spoken of, Bridget sobbed more hysterically than ever; butthe doctor, looking at her arm as she held her apron to her face,thought in his heart that Joe must have had so much the worst of it,that there could be no possible need for the interference of Thomasthe groom.
And such turned out to be the case. The bridge of Joe's nose wasbroken; and the doctor had to set it for him in a little bedroom atthe village public-house, Bridget having positively refused to go tobed in the same house with so dreadful a character.
"Quiet now, or I'll be serving thee the same way; thee see I've foundthe trick of it." The doctor could not but hear so much as he madehis way into his own house by the back door, after finishing hissurgical operation. Bridget was recounting to her champion the fracasthat had occurred; and he, as was so natural, was expressing hisadmiration at her valour.
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