ALL THE TRUTH.
The house wherein Sidney was waiting for the best or worst, was situated
in Bayswater. A house that had been taken at Maurice's expense, and by
Dr. Bario's suggestion. The Italian doctor was a man with a love of
effect--one of those stagey beings whom we meet occasionally in England,
and more often on the Continent. He was fond of mystery; it enhanced the
surprise, and gained him popularity. He was a clever man, but he was
also a vain one.
His style of practice he kept to himself; whether his cures were
effected by the common methods of treatment, or by methods of his own,
were hard to arrive at; he bound his patients and his patients' friends
to secrecy; some of his English medical contemporaries called him a
quack, others a mad-man--a few, just a few, to leaven the mass, thought
that there _was_ something in him. Abroad he was at the top of the tree
and sought after--matter-of-fact England not being able to make him out,
eyed him suspiciously.
Mattie and Harriet were ushered into a well-furnished room on the first
floor, where Maurice Hinchford awaited them. He went towards them at
once, and shook hands with them--even with Harriet Wesden, who had faced
him with such stern words during their last interview. There was a
common cause that bound all three together, and the past was forgotten.
"We are in time?" asked Mattie.
"Plenty of time, thank you."
"Where is Sidney?"
"In the room beyond there, where the curtain hangs before the door."
"Have you told him that _we_ are here?" asked Mattie.
"Yes, he is very anxious to speak with you both before he is left in Dr.
Bario's hands."
"You are hopeful of good results?" asked Harriet.
"Yes--very hopeful--are not you?" he asked curiously.
"No--I fear the worst."
"You have not considered the matter, Miss Wesden--this has come upon you
with the shock of a surprise, and hence the feeling that distresses you.
But I say he shall get better--we have all determined to make an
extraordinary case of him."
"Hush, sir!--he is in God's hands, not yours," said Harriet.
"I beg pardon--of course."
Maurice withdrew, a little downcast at Harriet's reproof; he had assumed
an over-cheerful air to set them at their ease, and they had not
understood him. They fancied that he was not anxious, when he felt all a
brother's suspense. He had been with Sidney day and night; he had
studied Sid's wishes, sought to keep him cheerful, read to him, had
wound himself into Sid's heart, and by the act enlarged his own and
purified it. The cousins understood each other; all the past had been
atoned for now; there was no element of bitterness in the forgiveness
which Maurice had sought and Sidney granted.
Maurice was called away, and presently returned with the Italian doctor,
to whom he introduced Miss Wesden.
"What is there to fear, sir?" was Harriet's first question.
She had heard all from Mattie, but was not satisfied until all had been
told her again from the doctor's lips. He still spoke of the chances for
and against success.
Presently, and before he had concluded, Mr. Geoffry Hinchford was
ushered into the room and introduced to the ladies there.
After a bow of the old-fashioned school, he said--
"This young lady," indicating Mattie, "I have had the pleasure of seeing
before. Some years ago, when she thought I had a design to rob a shop in
Suffolk Street. Am I right, Miss Gray?"
He spoke in jest, but Mattie responded gravely enough. It was no time
for jesting, and she thought that Mr. Geoffry Hinchford's remarks were
strangely _mal-apropos_. His manner changed, when he faced Doctor Bario
in his turn.
"You most cure this patient, sir, and name your own terms. My son and I
will chance your breaking the bank."
"You are good--very," said the pleased doctor, "and I am much obliged."
"We shall have him at his old post, I hope, ladies," said he, veering
round to the fair sex again. "A banking-house is his proper sphere--he
will rise to greatness with a fair chance. I do not know any man who
deserves greatness better--a true man of business--what a contrast to
his poor father!"
Maurice had withdrawn, and now returned again.
"He is ready to see the ladies now; keep him up, please, and speak
cheerfully of the future--that's right, doctor, I believe?"
"Quite right."
"One at a time. Mattie, he will see you first, he says."
Mattie's heart leaped anew at this; she passed beneath the curtain which
Maurice Hinchford held above her head, and went through the door to a
large room where Sidney was awaiting her. The sun was shining through
the windows upon him--a pale, calm figure, sitting there.
"Mattie," he said.
"Yes--I have come."
The door opened again, and Doctor Bario entered, taking up a position
where he could watch his patient's face. There must be nothing
calculated to excite his patient now.
Sidney shook hands with Mattie, saying--
"It has come at last--and we shall know the worst or the best in a few
minutes."
"You are not nervous of the result?--your pulse beats calmly, Sidney."
"I have steeled my nerves to it--I shall not shrink, and I am hopeful."
"Miss Wesden is here."
"You fetched her hither, Maurice tells me," he answered. "You are not a
jealous woman, Mattie."
"Have I a right to be jealous yet, before my mind is made up?" she
answered, lightly.
"The month draws on apace--I am looking forward to the future."
"Time," said Doctor Bario, and Mattie withdrew, after a silent pressure
of hands, given and returned. Mattie went towards the doctor instead of
the door.
"These interviews must tend to excite him--his pulse is less regular
than it was, sir."
"I am sorry for it," said Bario, coolly, "but he will have his way--he
is one man impetuous in that. He thinks it is better, in _case of
anything_!"
Mattie backed from him in horror; did Sid fear the result of the
experiment himself now? Harriet was waiting anxiously for her return.
"Be careful," whispered Mattie, as she passed in, and Mattie followed
her with her wistful eyes. They were a long while together, she thought;
longer than was necessary, or Doctor Bario should have allowed. What had
Harriet Wesden to say to him?--what would she say in moments like those?
The curtain was drawn back, and Harriet, with flushed cheeks, and
tearful eyes, came rapidly towards Mattie.
"What have you said to him?" asked Mattie, almost fiercely.
"What I would have said to him had he been dying--as he will die!--oh!
as he will die, I am sure of it."
"I pray God not," ejaculated Mattie.
"I asked him if he had forgiven me--if he would believe that when he
gave me up I loved him with my whole heart, and looked for no happiness
without him."
"You told him that!--you dared to tell him that at such a time!"
"I could not have told him at any other, and he was about to be
sacrificed by his own will and these mad relations, who have persuaded
him to this! He will die, I am sure of it."
"Don't say it again--I must hope, Harriet, and you drive me mad by this
excitability. What have you done?"
"Strengthened his courage--been rewarded by the 'God bless you,
Harriet!' which escaped him."
"Did he say no more?"
"Nothing but 'Too late!' In his heart he must feel that he will _die_,
or he would not have said that. Oh! those awful words, which will ring
in our ears and be our torment when this is over. Mattie, I must stop
it!"
Mattie held the excited girl in her own strong arms, and backed her to a
greater distance from the door of the room where Sidney was; at the same
moment the banker returned from his fugitive interview with his nephew,
and stood at the window taking snuff by wholesale. A confusion seemed to
suddenly pervade the scene; an assistant, then another entered, and
passed into Sidney's room; a third assistant ushered across the room
wherein they waited, a physician, with whom Mr. Geoffry Hinchford shook
hands, and took snuff for an instant. Maurice looked through the curtain
for an instant, held up his hand, and then withdrew again. The instant
afterwards the door was locked on the inner side, and a silence as of
death settled upon the three watchers without.
All was still; the thick walls and the closed doors deadened every
sound. Once and only once Dr. Bario's voice giving some orders startled
the banker and the two girls cowering at the extremity of the room.
"How still!" whispered Harriet at last, and Mattie bade her be silent.
Mattie was listening with strained ears for sounds from within, and the
fear that had beset Harriet settled at last upon herself and unnerved
her. How long would it be now, each thought and wondered--minutes,
hours, or what?
"This waiting is very awful," said Mr. Geoffry Hinchford, suddenly, and
Mattie bade him hush also, in an angry tone that made him jump again.
Suddenly the door was unlocked, and the three started up with clenched
hands and suspended breath. Two of the assistants came forth hurriedly,
and went out of the room. To the eager questions that were put to them
they answered something in Italian, and balked the longing of their
questioners. Then Maurice appeared, and cried,
"Success!--success! A statue in gold for Dr. Bario! The----"
"Hinchford," called the doctor from within, "come back--he calls you."
"No, not me," said Maurice, whose ears caught the English accent more
perfectly, "_he calls Harriet_--may she come?"
"Yes, for an instant--quick!"
Harriet darted across the room with a suppressed cry; the old fear had
seized her again.
"He is dying!--I knew it!"
"No, no, he will live for you!" cried Mattie, wringing her hands
together; "go to him!"
Harriet passed into the room, and recoiled for an instant at the utter
darkness and blackness of the place she had left so light. Maurice put
his hands upon her wrist, and drew her forwards. Dr. Bario's voice
arrested him.
"He has fainted--take her out again. He must speak to no one any more
to-day."
"But he will die!--oh! sir, will he not die?" cried Harriet.
"He will live; he will be as well in three weeks as ever--please
withdraw."
Harriet and Maurice Hinchford came back together.
"There is no use in waiting," Maurice said; "the result is as successful
as I anticipated. Let me recommend you to return home at once, Miss
Wesden. Miss Gray will accompany you, I am sure."
"Mattie, will you come with me?" asked Harriet, faintly.
Mattie moved like an automaton towards her, and the two went out
together arm-in-arm, down the broad staircase to the hall, from the hall
to the street, where Maurice's cab still waited for them.
"I am faint and ill, Mattie," said Harriet, sinking back.
"Will you rest awhile?"
"No--let us get home at once. How coldly and quietly you take this news,
Mattie!" she said, looking intently at her; "ah! if you had only loved
him like me all your life!"
"If I had!" murmured Mattie, "_this_ would have broken my heart!"
"Hearts don't break with joy, Mattie, or I should not see another
morning."
"No. You are right--not with joy!"