The Squire's Advice
"LETTERS. One for you, Sylvester, from Doris. And another for me,
from Mrs. Brutt."
The burly Rector sat at one end of the breakfast-table; and at the
other Mrs. Winton presided, with her usual air of state. She never
forgot that a Peer of the Realm was her distant cousin. They studied
their missives in silence.
"What a woman it is!" came presently. "The amount of talk! What does
Doris say?"
"Wants to climb another mountain. Mrs. Brutt refuses consent."
"She shows some sense—for once!"
"So the child appeals to us."
Mr. Winton read on, smiling to himself.
"Mrs. Brutt says she has been ill—and her English doctor has done
'wonders' for her. Is that the one who went up the peak with Doris?"
"Probably."
"Mrs. Brutt seems full of him. 'A delightful young fellow,' she calls
him. 'Young!'" Mrs. Winton scented mischief. She had pictured the
doctor in question as a comfortable, middle-aged practitioner, father
of a family.
"'Young,' Sylvester. You heard!"
"Yes, my dear."
"And Doris has been rampaging over the mountains with this young
doctor! Just listen—"
"'Such a dear young doctor—so gifted!—with quite distinguished
manners. Really, I never came across a medical man with keener
insight. I assure you, he read my constitution at a glance which must
mean absolute genius on his part, for I am not a person easily
understood—so very complex, you know!—as my dear old doctor used often
to say—"Yours is such a highly-strung organisation, my dear lady;
it needs acute observation—"'"
Mrs. Winton came to a bored pause.
"I don't believe any doctor alive would say anything so supremely
absurd—unless by way of flattery."
"But about Doris?"
"I'm trying to find out. It is all about the woman herself. Ah, here
we are. 'Doris is writing to Mr. Winton about her new craze for
climbing. She went partly up one peak with Mr. Maurice and
Mr. Pressford.' Now, which of them is the doctor? 'And Mr. Pressford
had a bad fall, and was stunned. Such a mercy that they had a doctor
in their party!' So Mr. Maurice is the individual. 'Doris will tell
you all that happened. She seems to have helped the others out of
their difficulty really most cleverly.'"
Mrs. Winton was scandalised.
"I never heard anything like it! Two full-grown men!—and a girl having
to get them out of their difficulties. What next, I wonder?"
"Mr. Maurice was supporting his friend on the rope, and he was unable
to move. Doris explains."
"Then he had no business to support his friend! They ought both
to have been looking after her."
Mrs. Winton reverted to her letter.
"'He is such an agile young fellow. But if an experienced climber like
Mr. Pressford can have a fall, one feels that anything might happen;
and really I must refuse any more responsibility in the matter.' I see
she says later that Mr. Maurice is beginning to practise in Edinburgh—
and is 'extremely well thought of!' I suppose he told her so himself!
I wonder what Mr. Hamilton Stirling would say to all this!"
The Rector grunted. He did not want anybody to carry off his pretty
Doris; but it was conceivable that a lively young Alpinist might be
better than a human Encyclopaedia.
"I don't know what you think, Sylvester, but I consider that it is
time for Doris to come home."
"Here's the Squire. Ask him."
Mr. Stirling walked in, apologising for the hour. He had ridden over
before breakfast, secure of supplying his needs at the Rectory and
hardly was he seated before Mrs. Winton had launched into the subject
of the two letters. The Rector, studying him, decided that something
was out of gear. He looked worn, almost old; and at first he seemed
abstracted. Something in a sentence from Doris's letter called up his
full attention with a jump.
"A new accomplishment for Doris," was his first remark, and it was
said with a forced smile. Then he asked carelessly how the young
doctor's name was spelt.
Extracts from the elder lady came next, with emendations from
Mrs. Winton.
"I dislike this sort of thing for Doris—extremely. Mrs. Brutt ought
to have known better than to allow it. She seems infatuated. I dare
say the young doctor is well enough in his way; but I do not choose
that Doris should be mixed up with all sorts of people."
The Squire had ceased eating, and was lost in thought.
"On the whole," he remarked, "I am disposed to advise a recall.
You will be wise to have Doris home."
Mr. Winton was again conscious of a perplexing element in tone and
manner. Mrs. Winton, taken up with her own view of matters, noticed
nothing.
"I happen to know something of a young Maurice, living in Edinburgh,—
probably the same." His words came slowly, and Mrs. Winton threw up
alarmed hands.
"You mean that he is an improper acquaintance."
"I have nothing to say against him personally. But his connections
are unsatisfactory."
"You mean—if there were any danger of an attachment! No fear of that.
Doris is too well trained; and she is as particular as I am myself.
Not the slightest danger of such a thing. But the intercourse is
undesirable. We had certainly better have her back as quickly as
possible,—and this is the last time she shall be trusted with Mrs.
Brutt. Quite the last time! I never did feel any confidence in that
woman. She thinks of nothing but herself. But about Doris's return—
if necessary, I suppose I must go myself."
"No need," the Squire said. "Your wiser plan, if I may suggest it,
will be to write and say that you cannot spare Doris any longer. If
Mrs. Brutt does not wish to return yet, an escort can be found."
He was already planning a letter which would bring the elder lady home
also. It was not his wish that either of the two should remain in
close touch with Maurice.
A few minutes later he rode away, resolving to call at Wyldd's Farm.
Some necessary business had to come first; but that should follow.
He had not once been there since his rebuke to Winnie.