Doctor Scales left his friend, after sending word by one of the servants
that he wished to see Lady Scarlett. The meeting would be very painful,
and it was one to be avoided. Consequently, beyond encountering Aunt
Sophia in the course of the evening and answering a few questions, the
doctor managed so well that he saw no one else belonging to the
establishment before asking whether Scarlett would see him again, and
retiring for the night.
"It isn't a question of medicine," he had said to himself. "Wretched
woman! I always mistrusted her. I don't know why, but I did. And now,
what will be the next movement? They will separate of course; and after
poor Scarlett has got over the shock, I daresay he will mend.--How
closely he kept it, poor fellow. He must have loved her very dearly,
and would not speak while it was mere suspicion."
It was just about this time that Aunt Sophia came to him, to ask him if
he would have some tea.
"No," he said shortly; "not to-night."
"Do you know what agitated my nephew so much?"
"Yes," said the doctor; "but I am not at liberty to tell you."
"I will not press you," said Aunt Sophia gravely. "Lady Scarlett is
with him now."
She walked away; and after making sure that he would not be wanted, as
has been said, Scales sought his room.
The night passed quietly enough; and in good time the doctor rose to
take his morning walk about the grounds, when, as he returned, towards
eight o'clock, he heard the grating of wheels upon the gravel, and saw
the dogcart driven up to the door. He involuntarily drew back and
stayed amongst the shrubs, just as Prayle came out quickly, with his
coat over his arm, and thin umbrella in hand. His little portmanteau
was handed in by the servant, and at a word, the groom drove off.
"Thank goodness!" ejaculated the doctor. "We've seen the last of him, I
hope; and as to that woman--Pah! What brazen effrontery!" This was
consequent upon seeing Prayle turn slightly in his place and look back
at the end of the house, where, from a staircase window, a hand
appeared, and a kerchief was for a moment waved.
Prayle, however, made no sign, and the doctor went in.
"I can't help people's emotions," he said to himself. "I have to quell
all mine and be matter-of-fact. Consequently, hunger has an opportunity
to develop itself, and I want my breakfast as at any other time."
There was no one in the breakfast-room when he entered; but in a few
minutes Naomi came down, looking rather pale and troubled; and soon
after Miss Raleigh appeared with a very solemn, stern countenance, which
relaxed, however, as she laid her hand in that of the young doctor.
"You have not seen James this morning, of course?"
"No," he replied.
"Ah! You will be glad to hear that he has had a better night. So Kate
tells me."
"Then he has forgiven her," said the doctor to himself. "Well, I could
not. It is Christian-like, though; and I suppose they will separate
quietly."
Just then, Lady Scarlett entered the room, looking very pale and
red-eyed, as if from weeping. She went up to Aunt Sophia and kissed
her, the kiss being coldly received; paid the same attention to Naomi;
and then held out her hand to the doctor. He hesitated for a moment,
and then, from force of habit more than anything else, he took a couple
of steps forward and shook hands in a cold limp fashion, astounded at
the fact that Lady Scarlett raised her eyes to his with a frank
ingenuous look of pain.
"As much like that of a sweet innocent girl as I ever saw," he thought,
as he took his place.
The meal was not a sociable one, for everybody seemed awkward and
constrained, and it passed off almost in silence; while, when soon after
it was ended, the doctor asked if he might go up to Scarlett's room,
there was a look almost of reproach in Lady Scarlett's eyes as she said:
"O yes; of course."
For some time past it had been Scarlett's habit to stay in his room till
mid-day. He dressed at eight, and then lay down again in a heavy,
dreamy way, to lie moodily thinking; but this time the doctor found him
fast asleep, looking very calm and peaceful, as his breath came
regularly, and there was a slight flush upon his haggard face.
"Poor fellow!" thought the doctor, "How wretchedly thin he has grown. I
was afraid the encounter last night would have been too much for him;
but it almost seems as if he is better, now he knows the worst."
As he stood watching him, he heard Lady Scarlett pass, on her way to her
own room; but she seemed to change her mind, came lightly back, and
opened the door softly.
"He is asleep," said the doctor sternly; and she at once withdrew,
leaving Scales at his post, from which he did not stir till
luncheon-time, when he went down.
Lady Scarlett had been twice to the door, to look in with wistful eyes;
but each time she had been forbidden to enter, as the patient was not to
be awakened at any cost; so the anxious woman went patiently away to
wait, for she never even dreamed of resisting the medical man's command.
Sleep seemed to have so thoroughly taken possession of James Scarlett,
that he remained under its influence hour after hour; and when Lady
Scarlett timidly asked if it was right, she received the same answer--
that under the circumstances nothing could be better--and went away
content.
It was quite evening when Scarlett awoke to find the doctor sitting
reading by his bed. "Why, Jack!" he cried, rather excitedly, "am I--am
I--worse?"
"My dear fellow, no; I hope not."
"No; of course not. I'm--I must be--Thank God!" he sighed fervently;
"what a restful, grateful sleep.--Where's Kate?"
"She has been here several times, but I would not have you disturbed."
"Bless her!" said Scarlett softly. "Jack you are my one friend, the
only one to whom I ever opened my heart, I trust you, Jack, with
everything."
"My dear old boy," said the doctor warmly, grasping his hands, "I hope I
deserve it. Heaven knows, I try."
"You do deserve it, Jack. I can never repay you for hat you've done for
me."
"Tchah, man, stuff! Why, I owe you a debt for letting me try to cure
you."
"Now let me be more in your debt, Jack," said Scarlett.
"As much as you like, old fellow. I'll do all I can."
Scarlett paused, and his face flushed almost feverishly as he gazed
earnestly at his friend. At last he spoke. "I have been weak--
unstrung; and that, made me what I was, Jack," he said piteously. "You
saw the weak side of my character last night. I had hidden it so well
before; but when you came to me then, I was half mad, and--well, I need
not confess--you must have seen the turn my thoughts took. You don't
wish me to degrade myself again--to make confession?"
"No, no--say nothing," said Scales quietly. "My dear old fellow,
believe me, I am your friend."
"You are, Jack; you are more--my very brother at heart; and if you ever
think again of my cruel sacrilegious doubts, set them down as a sick
man's fancies, and then bury them for ever. And--Jack, old friend--let
last night's outburst be a thing that's dead."
"I promise you, Scarlett, upon my word."
"Thanks, Jack, thanks! I shiver when I think of it. If Kate knew, it
would break her heart."
The doctor was silent.
"When I came back with my brain reeling, I was drunk with a great joy.
You know what I had fancied. O Jack! if I could forgive myself!--but I
never can."
"You are growing excited. You must be quiet, now."
"Excited, man? Oh, it is only with my happiness. That accursed idea,
born of my nervous state, was eating my very life away; while now that I
know that it was but the foul emanation of my own brain, I can scarcely
contain myself, and I seem to have leaped back to health and strength."
Scales did not speak.
"But I am forgetting.--Good heavens! I have slept away the day, and the
night is here. That wretched girl!"
The doctor gazed at him fixedly, asking himself if his friend's brain
was wandering.
"She promised to meet him--at some station--in London--to-night. Jack,
it must be stopped before it is too late.--Where is that scoundrel
Prayle?"
"He left this morning, early, to catch the train."
"And I've lain here as if in a stupor--Quick, Jack--my wife--no, poor
girl, she must not be troubled with this; she has borne enough. Ring
for--No; fetch my aunt. Yes; she will be the best. Go, old fellow,
quick!"
"Is he wandering, or am I a fool?" muttered the doctor, as he hurried
from the room to encounter Lady Scarlett on the stairs. "He is worse!"
she cried. "No, no," said the doctor, almost roughly. "Not yet. You
must not go, Lady Scarlett. I forbid it."
She shrank back meekly. "Tell me that he is in no danger," she said
imploringly.
"Yes; I do tell you that," he said with a feeling of repugnance that
would tinge his voice.--"Where is Miss Raleigh?"
"In the drawing-room. I will fetch her," cried Lady Scarlett, rushing
to perform the task, while the doctor stood rubbing his ear.
"It is I who am mad," he said to himself, "and not poor Scarlett.--Yes,"
he said aloud, as Aunt Sophia came up, "Scarlett wants to see you at
once." He led the way back, and closed the door almost angrily after
them, leaving Lady Scarlett with her head leaning against the wall, as
the tears coursed down her cheeks.
"Why does he dislike me so?" she sighed. "He is jealous of my love for
him--they are such friends. I ought to hate him; but how can I when he
is so true!"
"Auntie!" exclaimed Scarlett excitedly, as the old lady entered his
room, "I want you, quick--before it is too late. That smooth-tongued
scoundrel Prayle--"
"Amen!" said Aunt Sophia softly.
"Has been practising upon the weakness of that pretty little lass of
ours--Fanny. He has gone up to town, and she promised him to follow.
Go and stop her at any cost. Then send for her brother, and let him
know the truth; and if he follows and thrashes--What?"
"The girl has gone," said Aunt Sophia.
"Gone?"
"She asked Kate for a holiday, and went this afternoon. She was to be
back to-morrow night."
"Good heavens!" cried Scarlett. "I would sooner have given a thousand
pounds.--What is it, Jack?"
"Nothing--only this--so sad!" said the doctor hoarsely, as he sat where
he had literally dropped--into a chair.
"What is to be done?" cried Scarlett excitedly. "Here, send for William
Cressy. Let a man gallop over at once."
"Yes, I'll send," said the doctor; and he literally staggered out of the
room. "Am I really out of my senses?" he said to himself as he hurried
down. "Have I been blundering all this time; or is it a ruse of the
poor fellow to throw us off the truth?--Good heavens! what am I to
think!" he ran into the study and rang the bell loudly, when Martha
Betts came into the room at once in her calm grave way.
"Can you find the gardener--Monnick," he said, "quickly."
"Yes, sir."
"Send him here--at once."
The girl hurried out, and the doctor paced the room.
"If I am wrong, I shall never forgive myself. I can never look her in
the face again. Good heavens!--good heavens! I must, have been mad and
blind, and an utter scoundrel, to think such things of--Oh, what a
villain I have been!"
Just then, there was a heavy footstep in the passage, and the old
gardener tapped at the door.
"Come in," cried the doctor, running to meet him; and as the old man
entered, he caught him by the arm. "Quick!" he cried--"tell me--speak
out, man--the truth."
"Ay, sir, I will," muttered the old fellow.
"Who--who--now speak out; keep nothing back; I am your master's trusted
friend. Who was in the summer-house last night with Mr Prayle?"
"That poor foolish little wench, Fanny, sir; and--"
"Fool, fool, fool!" cried the doctor, stamping upon the floor.
"Ay, that's so, sir; that's so; and she'll know better soon, let's
hope."
"Quick!" cried the doctor. "Go--at once--and fetch her brother William
Cressy here. Your master wants to see him instantly. Go yourself, or
send some one who can run."
The old man hesitated, and then hurried out. "I'd better go mysen," he
muttered. "P'raps it's best; but I don't think Willyum Cressy will be
here to-night."
He had hardly closed the door before the doctor had opened it again, and
was on his way upstairs, but only to be waylaid by Lady Scarlett, who
caught him by the arm, and literally made him enter the drawing-room.
"Doctor Scales, I am his wife," she pleaded. "I have borne so much; for
pity's sake tell me. You see how I obey you and keep away; but tell me
what is wrong--or I shall die."
"Wrong?" cried the doctor, catching her hands, and kissing them again
and again. "Nothing about him, my dear child. He is better--much
better. The trouble--forgive me for saying it to you--is a scandal
about that scoundrel--double scoundrel--Prayle."
"And my husband?"
"Is better--much better."
Lady Scarlett's hands joined, and were raised towards heaven as she sank
upon her knees motionless, but for a low sob that forced its way from
her breast from time to time.
Doctor Scales stood gazing down at her for a few moments, and then
stooping low, he laid his hand reverently upon her head.
This brought her back from her rapt state of thankful prayer, and she
rose and caught his hand.
"I have been so rude and harsh," he blundered out. "Can you forgive
me?"
"Forgive? You, who have devoted yourself to him I love? My husband's
dearest friend has never yet truly read his poor wife's heart."
She said this with a quiet womanly dignity that humbled the doctor to
the very dust, and his voice was broken as he replied gently:
"I never have--I have been very blind."
He said no more, but went slowly to the door. There he turned.
"Once more," he said: "Scarlett is much better. It was only to save you
from pain that he sent for Miss Raleigh. That is all."
Volume 2, Chapter XIII.