For a man who prided himself on the ease and self-possession which made
him so distinguished a feature in society, Dr. Bayard could not but
confess to himself that the sudden orders which sent his assistant away
left him in a somewhat embarrassing position. The care of Weeks's
patients now devolved upon the senior, and among these patients was one
who much needed his attention, but whom he shrank from seeing,--Randall
McLean,--and another whom he greatly desired to attend, but who shrank
from seeing him,--Miss Forrest.
Mrs. Miller was still at the bedside of the former when Dr. Bayard
nerved himself to make the necessary call. To his great relief, the
young soldier had fallen into a fitful doze and was unconscious of his
presence. Mrs. Miller, in low tones, described his condition; and the
doctor was content to go without other examination, though he left
directions with the attendant as to what was to be done when the
patient awaked. Next he repaired to Mrs. Forrest's rooms, and was
measurably soothed and flattered by her appreciative reception. He bade
her pay no attention to the rumors rushing through the post, and dinned
into her affrighted ears by Celestine, as to the probable fate of
Hatton and his little command. He pointed out to her, as he had to
other ladies whom he had been summoned to attend that gruesome
afternoon, that it was not the first time Mr. Hatton had been
"corralled" by the Sioux, and that he had always successfully kept them
at respectful distance, and his own command under cover, until the
rescuers in shape of cavalry could reach the scene. It is true that in
this instance the attack seemed to have been fierce and sudden, and the
courier gave the names of two men who were killed instantly; but, said
he, as that attack was repelled, and Hatton lost no time in getting his
men into a little hollow, he believed and Major Miller believed that
they could "stand off" the Indians indefinitely. The cavalry would
certainly reach them early in the morning, and that would be the end of
it. Forty-two hours wasn't very long compared with other sieges those
infantrymen had sustained in escorting trains through the Indian
country, if they only had water for their wounded, all would go well.
There was the main trouble, said the doctor. What with the Niobrara and
the Rawhide and the little streams running into them, and the spring at
Box Elder, close to the road, there was so much water along the route
that possibly they had neglected to fill the barrel on their wagon and
the canteen carried by each man. If that were the case, and the Indians
had surrounded them some distance from any spring or stream, then the
wounded might, indeed, have to suffer a day or so, but he anticipated
nothing worse. He had talked it all over with Miller before setting
forth on his rounds, and knew just what to say. Most women were
reassured and rendered hopeful, but Mrs. Forrest's spirits were at low
ebb and she required consolation in double allowance. Bayard lingered
with her, nothing loath, hoping that Miss Forrest might come into the
family sitting-room to hear his version of affairs at the front. Even
after Mrs. Forrest was talked out, and the font of her ready tears was
nearly pumped dry, he held his ground, examining Maud's and Vickie's
juvenile tongues and dandling baby Hal to that youngster's keen
delight. But no one came along the hall whose step sounded like hers,
and at last his patience gave out.
"And how is Miss Forrest this afternoon?" he asked.
"Still confined to her room and bed, doctor, but she says she means to
get up and dress this evening. Now, do you think it prudent for her to
go out in the night air?"
"On general principles, Mrs. Forrest," answered the doctor, slowly and
impressively, "I should say no, but I have no knowledge of the merits
of this case. You will remember that my services were virtually
declined by the young lady in favor of those of the assistant."
"I know, doctor, I know. Fanny is simply the most incomprehensible
creature I ever met. I cannot understand her at all, and it's useless
for me to talk to her. I told her that you were the family physician,
and pointed out to her that a simple regard for the proprieties ought
to show her how much better it would be to call you instead of a
gentleman so much younger; but she pays no attention to anything I say.
She never has."
Bayard winced not a little at the invidious comparison on the score of
age, but, now that the subject was opened, he desired to "prospect" a
little. There was another view to be taken, and one far more flattering
to his _amour propre_. Probably, in the coyness of a woman who had
recognized the lover in his looks and language, Miss Forrest had
tacitly admitted his claim to be regarded as such by summoning another,
not a lover, to attend her professionally. If this hypothesis proved
correct he would have some grounds for hope. Two things, however, he
greatly desired to know before taking the plunge. First, was it
possible that Mr. Courtlandt proposed leaving her a lump of his large
fortune? Second, was it possible that she had already given her heart
to another? He well knew that on neither point would Miss Forrest be
confidential with so weak a vessel as her sister-in-law; but, on the
other hand,--and the doctor reasoned well,--he felt sure that, in order
to reconcile her to having Fanny as an inmate of their household,
Captain Forrest had been compelled to tell her why he had withdrawn his
sister from such luxurious surroundings in New York and brought her to
share his humble fare as a soldier on the far frontier. He had heard
from a dozen sources how Forrest had almost painfully truckled to his
querulous wife; always pleading, explaining, conciliating; always
fearful of saying or doing, or leaving unsaid or undone, something, the
doing or neglecting of which was sure to wound her sensitive soul and
bring on a flood of tears and reproaches. "If she were my wife," said
blunt old Bruce, "I'd pack her off home to that doting father she's
always prating about, and I'd keep her there until she arrived at years
of discretion. It is simply pitiful to see a big, stalwart, soldierly
fellow like Forrest led around by the nose like a ringed bull by that
ridiculous and lackadaisical creature." Beyond doubt there would have
been far more happiness all around if Forrest had firmly set down his
foot and refused to be longer the victim of her whims and caprices.
There would doubtless have been a few days of sore lamentation and
despairing appeals to be restored to her father's arms (where she was
not at all wanted, that estimable ecclesiastic having only recently
taken thereto a successor to her sainted mother); but in the end she
would have respected him far more and been happier in obeying him. Like
many another husband, poor Forrest was at times conscious of his duty
in the case; but, like most others, shrank from the ordeal. Bruce
himself, so savagely critical of the weakness of other spouses, was
notoriously subservient to the wishes of Mrs. Bruce; but she never had
to resort to tears to accomplish her object, and was thoroughly in
unison with her husband in his condemnation of Forrest's weakness.
"Poor, poor fellow!" she was saying to herself this very day. "With
such a fool for a wife and such a--such a sharper for a sister!"
So confident was Bayard of his ground that he had decided, days since,
on his plan of attack. He would not ask direct questions, for her
husband had doubtless pledged her to secrecy. He would delicately but
unhesitatingly speak of Miss Forrest as though he had full knowledge of
her past, and he felt assured that he could read in the patient's face,
even in the unlikely event of her silence, whether or no his theories
were correct. Besides, he had ventured an inquiry or two of an old New
York associate and club-fellow, a man who had known the Courtlandts
well.
"We must not judge Miss Forrest harshly, dear lady," he soothingly
remarked, after a moment of deep thought and apparent hesitation. "I
confess that I felt a little aggrieved at first when she saw fit to
summon Dr. Weeks despite the fact that I was in the house as your
physician two or three times a day; but, after thinking it all over,
her motives were apparent and--quite natural. You probably did not know
that I was well acquainted with Mr. Courtlandt, did you?"
"No! were you?" asked Mrs. Forrest, with dilating eyes. "And Fanny
knew,--and did not tell me----"
"Yes. We were members of the same club, and I used to see a great deal
of him before coming West." It was very long before, and it was only
seeing, but Bayard did not care to explain this. He wished to convey
the idea that his acquaintance with the old gentleman had been recent
and confidential, and he succeeded.
"How strange that you should be here--where she is. I'm sure Captain
Forrest has no idea of it, doctor. Did--did you ever speak with her
about--the Courtlandts?"
"Yes, once. Of course she did not care to talk of the matter at first.
It was only when she found that I knew Mr. Courtlandt so well, that she
became at all communicative."
"And did she talk of her affair--of Mr. Courtlandt--the younger one I
mean?"
"My dear Mrs. Forrest! We could hardly expect a young lady to be
communicative on such a topic as that. Of course there were some things
I could not help knowing, and that is why I say we ought not to judge
her harshly now. Her experience of last year was not calculated to make
a girl look upon the world with kindlier eyes, and the contrast between
the life she leads now and that she led under her kinsman's roof is
enough to dishearten any woman."
"I'm sure I do everything I possibly can to make her content and
happy," impetuously exclaimed Mrs. Forrest. "And it's all her own fault
if she isn't. She--she needn't have come at all. Mr. Courtlandt told
her and told Captain Forrest that it should make no difference; but she
is self-willed and obstinate, and nothing would do but she must quit
his roof forever and come to be a burden on her brother, who has quite
enough to stagger under already." ("Hum!" thought Bayard at this
juncture, "how little she realizes the truth of that assertion!") "Mr.
Courtlandt had been devoted to her from her childhood, had lavished
everything on her, had educated her, sent her abroad, provided for her
in every way, and--she rewarded him by taking this silly prejudice
against his son, whom she ought to have had sense enough to know he
expected her to marry."
Bayard's pulse gave a leap, but his fine face made no sign.
Professional imperturbability alone expressed itself. She paused one
instant for breath. Then it occurred to her that perhaps she was
broadly trenching on forbidden ground and revealing that which her
husband had bidden her keep inviolate. Bayard read her like an open
book, and promptly took the initiative before she could question.
"And yet, Mrs. Forrest, would you have had her--a woman of such
superior attainments and character--would your husband have had her
marry a man to whom she could not look up?--whose character and, pardon
me, whose habits were so, let us say, unsettled?"
"Then she ought to have left before. I know she says she never dreamed
of its being her uncle's plan or hope,--never dreamed that the young
man was in earnest. It was all nonsense to say she couldn't marry a man
whom she did not look up to and respect. He is only a year younger than
she is, and lots of girls marry men younger than themselves,--especially
when such a fortune was involved. Why! Mr. Courtlandt would have left
them everything he had in the world, if she would only have consented."
"But women form their own ideals, dear lady, and she may have had a man
in view whom she did look up to, honor, and love. Is not that a
reasonable theory?" And the doctor's eyes, full of sympathy and
deference, watched his impulsive patient narrowly withal. How well he
knew her! She fell instantly into the trap.
"But she hadn't! I could forgive her easily if that were so, but she
told the captain it was purely and simply that she could not and would
not marry Philip Courtlandt or any man like him."
"But I fancied from what--from various circumstances--that the young
man was very dissipated--dangerously so, in fact. Would you counsel
your sister to marry such a man?"
"Well, why not? He has been wild, I know. My husband looked into the
whole case, and, of course, he sustains her. Phil Courtlandt had to go
into a retreat once, but I believe it was because she treated him so.
His father was sure that she could reform and make a man of him, and he
almost implored her to take pity on his gray hairs and save his boy. I
tell you I think it was sheer ingratitude. Even if she couldn't have
reformed him, there would have been all that money." And Mrs. Forrest
sighed pathetically at thought of the thousands her hard-headed,
hard-hearted sister had refused. Bayard, congratulating himself on his
success thus far, had still another point on which he desired
information,--a vital point.
"What seems so bad about the whole matter," he said, after a
sympathetic echo of the lady's sigh, "is the disappointment of old Mr.
Courtlandt. No doubt, despite their cousinship, this has long been his
cherished scheme; and it must make him--at least I do not wonder that
it makes him a trifle bitter against her."
"Why, doctor, that is one of the queerest things to me! One would
suppose that any girl of ordinary gratitude would try and repay and
appreciate such devotion as has been lavished on her. She simply repels
people who try to be loving to her. I'm sure I've tried every way in my
power. Of course, at first he was very bitter and said some severe
things,--at least she so told Captain Forrest,--but she has no right to
treasure them up against him. He said he had reared and educated and
cherished her purposely to be the salvation of his wayward son, and, as
she would not have the son, he said she could not live under his roof.
Then he had always given her a liberal allowance, besides paying the
most extraordinary bills, and she hurt him fearfully--I know she
did--by refusing to accept it afterward. He has sent it to her even
here, and she almost hurls it back at him,--and here are Maud and
Vickie without a decent dress to their names," wailed Mrs. Forrest in
somewhat irrelevant conclusion, and the tears welled again from her
weary eyes.
Bayard was again silent a moment, waiting for his patient to recover
her composure and her tongue. It was comfort to think that, at least,
Mr. Courtlandt's munificence was still a fact. But how about the
future?
"Anything that might tend to widen the breach between them would, of
course, be deplorable," he presently said; "but I infer, from the fact
that he continues to send her allowance to her, that he will be apt to
provide liberally for her in his will."
"He would do anything for her, I've no doubt, despite her ingratitude;
but she has told Captain Forrest that after what has passed she cannot
and will not accept a penny from him. Now what can one say to a girl
like that?"
And this question the doctor could not answer. After a few moments'
thought, he arose as if to go.
"I am heartily glad to know that she is so much better this afternoon.
These are anxious days for us all, and it is not to be wondered at that
so many of our ladies are prostrated. Will you kindly say to her that I
called to inquire after her, and am rejoiced to think we will soon be
able to welcome her out again? And, Mrs. Forrest, you might say to her
that it would gladden my little girl if she would come over and sit
with her or sing to her. Elinor has been very low-spirited to-day,
owing, no doubt, to the fact that Jeannie Bruce has been in tears much
of the time since Hatton left. Good-afternoon, Mrs. Forrest. Good-by,
little ones." And the courtly doctor took his leave.
As he descended the stairs with characteristic deliberation and
dignity, Celestine came forth from the dining-room and met him at the
foot of the stairs.
"Mr. Holmes is come, doctor," she said, showing her white teeth.
"Specks he'll be glad to find Miss Nellie sittin' up again. T'warn't no
use 'n Miss Fanny t' try to catch him, 'n' I told her so when she was
writin' to him. He's out yahnder along with Major Miller now."
And though the doctor frowned majestically and strode by the gabbling
hussy without a word, it gave him an uncomfortable start to hear her
words. What had happened that Fanny Forrest should be writing now to
Roswell Holmes? This was something to be looked into.