AT DINNER
They were assembled in the drawing-room before dinner, when Lord Kilgobbin
arrived, heated, dusty, and tired, after his twelve miles’ drive. ‘I say,
girls,’ said he, putting his head inside the door, ‘is it true that our
distinguished guest is not coming down to dinner, for, if so, I’ll not wait
to dress?’
‘No, papa; he said he’d stay with Mr. Walpole. They’ve been receiving and
despatching telegrams all day, and seem to have the whole world on their
hands,’ said Kate.
‘Well, sir, what did you do at the sessions?’
‘Yes, my lord,’ broke in Nina, eager to show her more mindful regard to his
rank than Atlee displayed; ‘tell us your news?’
‘I suspect we have got two of them, and are on the traces of the others.
They are Louth men, and were sent special here to give me a lesson, as they
call it. That’s what our blessed newspapers have brought us to. Some idle
vagabond, at his wits’ end for an article, fastens on some unlucky country
gentleman, neither much better nor worse than his neighbours, holds him
up to public reprobation, perfectly sure that within a week’s time some
rascal who owes him a grudge--the fellow he has evicted for non-payment of
rent, the blackguard he prosecuted for perjury, or some other of the like
stamp--will write a piteous letter to the editor, relating his wrongs. The
next act of the drama is a notice on the hall door, with a coffin at the
top; and the piece closes with a charge of slugs in your body, as you are
on your road to mass. Now, if I had the making of the laws, the first
fellow I’d lay hands on would be the newspaper writer. Eh, Master Atlee, am
I right?’
‘I go with you to the furthest extent, my lord.’
‘I vote we hang Joe, then,’ cried Dick. ‘He is the only member of the
fraternity I have any acquaintance with.’
‘What--do you tell me that you write for the papers?’ asked my lord slyly.
‘He’s quizzing, sir; he knows right well I have no gifts of that sort.’
‘Here’s dinner, papa. Will you give Nina your arm? Mr. Atlee, you are to
take me.’
‘You’ll not agree with me, Nina, my dear,’ said the old man, as he led her
along; ‘but I’m heartily glad we have not that great swell who dined with
us yesterday.’
‘I do agree with you, uncle--I dislike him.’
‘Perhaps I am unjust to him; but I thought he treated us all with a sort of
bland pity that I found very offensive.’
‘Yes; I thought that too. His manner seemed to say, “I am very sorry for
you, but what can be done?”’
‘Is the other fellow--the wounded one--as bad?’
She pursed up her lip, slightly shrugged her shoulders, and then said,
‘There’s not a great deal to choose between them; but I think I like him
better.’
‘How do you like Dick, eh?’ said he, in a whisper.
‘Oh, so much,’ said she, with one of her half-downcast looks, but which
never prevented her seeing what passed in her neighbour’s face.
‘Well, don’t let him fall in love with _you_,’ said he, with a smile, ‘for
it would be bad for you both.’
‘But why should he?’ said she, with an air of innocence.
‘Just because I don’t see how he is to escape it. What’s Master Atlee
saying to you, Kitty?’
‘He’s giving me some hints about horse-breaking,’ said she quietly.
‘Is he, by George? Well, I ‘d like to see him follow you over that fallen
timber in the back lawn. We’ll have you out, Master Joe, and give you a
field-day to-morrow,’ said the old man.
‘I vote we do,’ cried Dick; ‘unless, better still, we could persuade Miss
Betty to bring the dogs over and give us a cub-hunt.’
‘I want to see a cub-hunt,’ broke in Nina.
‘Do you mean that you ride to hounds, Cousin Nina?’ asked Dick.
‘I should think that any one who has taken the ox-fences on the Roman
Campagna, as I have, might venture to face your small stone-walls here.’
‘That’s plucky, anyhow; and I hope, Joe, it will put you on your metal to
show yourself worthy of your companionship. What is old Mathew looking so
mysteriously about? What do you want?’
The old servant thus addressed had gone about the room with the air of
one not fully decided to whom to speak, and at last he leaned over Miss
Kearney’s shoulder, and whispered a few words in her ear. ‘Of course not,
Mat!’ said she, and then turning to her father--‘Mat has such an opinion of
my medical skill, he wants me to see Mr. Walpole, who, it seems, has got
up, and evidently increased his pain by it.’
‘Oh, but is there no doctor near us?’ asked Nina eagerly.
‘I’d go at once,’ said Kate frankly, ‘but my skill does not extend to
surgery.’
‘I have some little knowledge in that way: I studied and walked the
hospitals for a couple of years,’ broke out Joe. ‘Shall I go up to him?’
‘By all means,’ cried several together, and Joe rose and followed Mathew
upstairs.
‘Oh, are you a medical man?’ cried Lockwood, as the other entered.
‘After a fashion, I may say I am. At least, I can tell you where my skill
will come to its limit, and that is something.’
‘Look here, then--he would insist on getting up, and I fear he has
displaced the position of the bones. You must be very gentle, for the pain
is terrific.’
‘No; there’s no great mischief done--the fractured parts are in a proper
position. It is the mere pain of disturbance. Cover it all over with
the ice again, and’--here he felt his pulse--‘let him have some weak
brandy-and-water.’
‘That’s sensible advice--I feel it. I am shivery all over,’ said Walpole.
‘I’ll go and make a brew for you,’ cried Joe, ‘and you shall have it as hot
as you can drink it.’
He had scarcely left the room, when he returned with the smoking compound.
‘You’re such a jolly doctor,’ said Walpole, ‘I feel sure you’d not refuse
me a cigar?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘Only think! that old barbarian who was here this morning said I was to
have nothing but weak tea or iced lemonade.’
Lockwood selected a mild-looking weed, and handed it to his friend, and was
about to offer one to Atlee, when he said--
‘But we have taken you from your dinner--pray go back again.’
‘No, we were at dessert. I’ll stay here and have a smoke, if you will let
me. Will it bore you, though?’
‘On the contrary,’ said Walpole, ‘your company will be a great boon to us;
and as for myself, you have done me good already.’
‘What would you say, Major Lockwood, to taking my place below-stairs? They
are just sitting over their wine--some very pleasant claret--and the young
ladies, I perceive, here, give half an hour of their company before they
leave the dining-room.’
‘Here goes, then,’ said Lockwood. ‘Now that you remind me of it, I do want
a glass of wine.’
Lockwood found the party below-stairs eagerly discussing Joe Atlee’s
medical qualifications, and doubting whether, if it was a knowledge of
civil engineering or marine gunnery had been required, he would not have
been equally ready to offer himself for the emergency.
‘I’ll lay my life on it, if the real doctor arrives, Joe will take the lead
in the consultation,’ cried Dick: ‘he is the most unabashable villain in
Europe.’
‘Well, he has put Cecil all right,’ said Lockwood: ‘he has settled the arm
most comfortably on the pillow, the pain is decreasing every moment, and by
his pleasant and jolly talk he is making Walpole even forget it at times.’
This was exactly what Atlee was doing. Watching carefully the sick man’s
face, he plied him with just that amount of amusement that he could bear
without fatigue. He told him the absurd versions that had got abroad of the
incident in the press; and cautiously feeling his way, went on to tell
how Dick Kearney had started from town full of the most fiery intentions
towards that visitor whom the newspapers called a ‘noted profligate’ of
London celebrity. ‘If you had not been shot before, we were to have managed
it for you now,’ said he.
‘Surely these fellows who wrote this had never heard of me.’
‘Of course they had not, further than you were on the Viceroy’s staff; but
is not that ample warranty for profligacy? Besides, the real intention was
not to assail you, but the people here who admitted you.’ Thus talking, he
led Walpole to own that he had no acquaintanceship with the Kearneys, that
a mere passing curiosity to see the interesting house had provoked his
request, to which the answer, coming from an old friend, led to his visit.
Through this channel Atlee drew him on to the subject of the Greek girl
and her parentage. As Walpole sketched the society of Rome, Atlee, who had
cultivated the gift of listening fully as much as that of talking, knew
where to seem interested by the views of life thrown out, and where to show
a racy enjoyment of the little humoristic bits of description which the
other was rather proud of his skill in deploying; and as Atlee always
appeared so conversant with the family history of the people they were
discussing, Walpole spoke with unbounded freedom and openness.
‘You must have been astonished to meet the “Titian Girl” in Ireland?’ said
Joe at last, for he had caught up the epithet dropped accidentally in the
other’s narrative, and kept it for use.
‘Was I not! but if my memory had been clearer, I should have remembered she
had Irish connections. I had heard of Lord Kilgobbin on the other side of
the Alps.’
‘I don’t doubt that the title would meet a readier acceptance there than
here.’
‘Ah, you think so!’ cried Walpole. ‘What is the meaning of a rank that
people acknowledge or deny at pleasure? Is this peculiar to Ireland?’
‘If you had asked whether persons anywhere else would like to maintain such
a strange pretension, I might perhaps have answered you.’
‘For the few minutes of this visit to me, I liked him; he seemed frank,
hearty, and genial.’
‘I suppose he is, and I suspect this folly of the lordship is no fancy of
his own.’
‘Nor the daughter’s, then, I’ll be bound?’
‘No; the son, I take it, has all the ambition of the house.’
‘Do you know them well?’
‘No, I never saw them till yesterday. The son and I are chums: we live
together, and have done so these three years.’
‘You like your visit here, however?’
‘Yes. It’s rather good fun on the whole. I was afraid of the indoor life
when I was coming down, but it’s pleasanter than I looked for.’
‘When I asked you the question, it was not out of idle curiosity. I had a
strong personal interest in your answer. In fact, it was another way of
inquiring whether it would be a great sacrifice to tear yourself away from
this.’
‘No, inasmuch as the tearing-away process must take place in a couple of
days--three at farthest.’
‘That makes what I have to propose all the easier. It is a matter of great
urgency for me to reach Dublin at once. This unlucky incident has been so
represented by the newspapers as to give considerable uneasiness to the
Government, and they are even threatened with a discussion on it in the
House. Now, I’d start to-morrow, if I thought I could travel with safety.
You have so impressed me with your skill, that, if I dared, I’d ask you to
convoy me up. Of course I mean as my physician.’
‘But I’m not one, nor ever intend to be.’
‘You studied, however?’
‘As I have done scores of things. I know a little bit of criminal law, have
done some shipbuilding, rode _haute école_ in Cooke’s circus, and, after M.
Dumas, I am considered the best amateur macaroni-maker in Europe.’
‘And which of these careers do you intend to abide by?’
‘None, not one of them. “Financing” is the only pursuit that pays largely.
I intend to go in for money.’
‘I should like to hear your ideas on that subject.’
‘So you shall, as we travel up to town.’
‘You accept my offer, then?’
‘Of course I do. I am delighted to have so many hours in your company. I
believe I can safely say I have that amount of skill to be of service
to you. One begins his medical experience with fractures. They are the
pothooks and hangers of surgery, and I have gone that far. Now, what are
your plans?’
‘My plans are to leave this early to-morrow, so as to rest during the hot
hours of the day, and reach Dublin by nightfall. Why do you smile?’
‘I smile at your notion of climate; but I never knew any man who had been
once in Italy able to disabuse himself of the idea that there were three
or four hours every summer day to be passed with closed shutters and iced
drinks.’
‘Well, I believe I was thinking of a fiercer sun and a hotter soil than
these. To return to my project: we can find means of posting, carriage and
horses, in the village. I forget its name.’
‘I’ll take care of all that. At what hour will you start?’
‘I should say by six or seven. I shall not sleep; and I shall be all
impatience till we are away.’
‘Well, is there anything else to be thought of?’
‘There is--that is, I have something on my mind, and I am debating with
myself how far, on a half-hour’s acquaintance, I can make you a partner in
it.’
‘I cannot help you by my advice. I can only say that if you like to trust
me, I’ll know how to respect the confidence.’
Walpole looked steadily and steadfastly at him, and the examination seemed
to satisfy him, for he said, ‘I will trust you--not that the matter is a
secret in any sense that involves consequences; but it is a thing that
needs a little tact and discretion, a slight exercise of a light hand,
which is what my friend Lockwood fails in. Now you could do it.’
‘If I can, I will. What is it?’
‘Well, the matter is this. I have written a few lines here, very illegibly
and badly, as you may believe, for they were with my left hand; and
besides having the letter conveyed to its address, I need a few words of
explanation.’
‘The Titian Girl,’ muttered Joe, as though thinking aloud.
‘Why do you say so?’
‘Oh, it was easy enough to see her greater anxiety and uneasiness about
you. There was an actual flash of jealousy across her features when Miss
Kearney proposed coming up to see you.’
‘And was this remarked, think you?’
‘Only by me. _I_ saw, and let her see I saw it, and we understood each
other from that moment.’
‘I mustn’t let you mistake me. You are not to suppose that there is
anything between Mademoiselle Kostalergi and myself. I knew a good deal
about her father, and there were family circumstances in which I was once
able to be of use; and I wished to let her know that if at any time she
desired to communicate with me, I could procure an address, under which she
could write with freedom.’
‘As for instance: “J. Atlee, 48 Old Square, Trinity College, Dublin.”’
‘Well, I did not think of that at the moment,’ said Walpole, smiling.
‘Now,’ continued he, ‘though I have written all this, it is so blotted
and disgraceful generally--done with the left hand, and while in great
pain--that I think it would be as well not to send the letter, but simply a
message--’
Atlee nodded, and Walpole went on: ‘A message to say that I was wishing to
write, but unable; and that if I had her permission, so soon as my fingers
could hold a pen, to finish--yes, to finish that communication I had
already begun, and if she felt there was no inconvenience in writing to me,
under cover to your care, I should pledge myself to devote all my zeal and
my best services to her interests.’
‘In fact, I am to lead her to suppose she ought to have the most implicit
confidence in you, and to believe in me, because I say so.’
‘I do not exactly see that these are my instructions to you.’
‘Well, you certainly want to write to her.’
‘I don’t know that I do.’
‘At all events, you want her to write to _you_.’
‘You are nearer the mark now.’
‘That ought not to be very difficult to arrange. I’ll go down now and
have a cup of tea, and I may, I hope, come up and see you again before
bed-time.’
‘Wait one moment,’ cried Walpole, as the other was about to leave the room.
‘Do you see a small tray on that table yonder, with some trinkets? Yes,
that is it. Well, will you do me the favour to choose something amongst
them as your fee? Come, come, you know you are my doctor now, and I
insist on this. There’s nothing of any value there, and you will have no
misgivings.’
‘Am I to take it haphazard?’ asked Atlee.
‘Whatever you like,’ said the other indolently.
‘I have selected a ring,’ said Atlee, as he drew it on his finger.
‘Not an opal?’
‘Yes, it is an opal with brilliants round it.’
‘I’d rather you’d taken all the rest than that. Not that I ever wear it,
but somehow it has a bit of memory attached to it!’
‘Do you know,’ said Atlee gravely, ‘you are adding immensely to the value
I desired to see in it? I wanted something as a souvenir of you--what the
Germans call an _Andenken_, and here is evidently what has some secret clue
to your affections. It was not an old love-token?’
‘No; or I should certainly not part with it.’
‘It did not belong to a friend now no more?’
‘Nor that either,’ said he, smiling at the other’s persistent curiosity.
‘Then if it be neither the gift of an old love nor a lost friend, I’ll not
relinquish it,’ cried Joe.
‘Be it so,’ said Walpole, half carelessly. ‘Mine was a mere caprice after
all. It is linked with a reminiscence--there’s the whole of it; but if you
care for it, pray keep it.’
‘I do care for it, and I will keep it.’
It was a very peculiar smile that curled Walpole’s lip as he heard this
speech, and there was an expression in his eyes that seemed to say, ‘What
manner of man is this, what sort of nature, new and strange to me, is he
made of?’
‘Bye-bye!’ said Atlee carelessly, and he strolled away.