Whatever the disposition towards merriment at his cousin’s expense
entertained by the Squire, it vanished instantly at the sight of the
Captain’s doleful visage and emaciated figure.
“Very good in you to come to town to see me—very good in you, cousin;
and in you too, Mr Dale. How very well you are both looking. I’m a sad
wreck. You might count every bone in my body.”
“Hazeldean air and roast beef will soon set you up, my boy,” said the
Squire kindly. “You were a great goose to leave them, and these
comfortable rooms of yours in the Albany.”
“They _are_ comfortable, though not showy,” said the Captain, with tears
in his eyes. “I had done my best to make them so. New carpets—this very
chair—(morocco!)—that Japan cat (holds toast and muffins)—just when—just
when—(the tears here broke forth, and the Captain fairly whimpered)—just
when that ungrateful bad-hearted man wrote me word ‘he was—was dying and
lone in the world;’ and—and—to think what I’ve gone through for him!—and
to treat me so. Cousin William, he has grown as hale as yourself,
and—and—”
“Cheer up, cheer up!” cried the compassionate Squire. “It is a very hard
case, I allow. But you see, as the old proverb says, ‘’tis ill waiting
for a dead man’s shoes;’ and in future—I don’t mean offence—but I think
if you would calculate less on the livers of your relations, it would be
all the better for your own. Excuse me.”
“Cousin William,” replied the poor Captain, “I am sure I never
calculated; but still, if you had seen that deceitful man’s
good-for-nothing face—as yellow as a guinea—and have gone through all
I’ve gone through, you would have felt cut to the heart as I do. I can’t
bear ingratitude. I never could. But let it pass. Will that gentleman
take a chair?”
PARSON.—“Mr Fairfield has kindly called with us, because he knows
something of this system of homœopathy which you have adopted, and may,
perhaps, know the practitioner. What is the name of your doctor?”
CAPTAIN, (looking at his watch.)—“That reminds me, (swallowing a
globule.) A great relief these little pills—after the physic I’ve taken
to please that malignant man. He always tried his doctor’s stuff upon
me. But there’s another world, and a juster!”
With that pious conclusion, the Captain again began to weep.
“Touched,” muttered the Squire, with his forefinger on his forehead.
“You seem to have a good tidy sort of nurse here, Cousin Barnabas. I
hope she’s pleasant, and lively, and don’t let you take on so.”
“Hist!—don’t talk of her. All mercenary; every bit of her fawning! Would
you believe it? I give her ten shillings a-week, besides all that goes
down of my pats of butter and rolls, and I overheard the jade saying to
the laundress that ‘I could not last long; and she’d—EXPECTATIONS!’ Ah,
Mr Dale, when one thinks of the sinfulness there is in this life! But
I’ll not think of it. No—I’ll not. Let us change the subject. You were
asking my doctor’s name? It is—”
Here the woman ‘with expectations’ threw open the door, and suddenly
announced—“DR MORGAN.”