DR. CROFTS.
If there was anything in the world as to which Isabella Dale was
quite certain, it was this--that she was not in love with Dr. Crofts.
As to being in love with her cousin Bernard, she had never had
occasion to ask herself any question on that head. She liked him very
well, but she had never thought of marrying him; and now, when he
made his proposal, she could not bring herself to think of it. But
as regards Dr. Crofts, she had thought of it, and had made up her
mind;--in the manner above described.
It may be said that she could not have been justified in discussing
the matter even within her own bosom, unless authorized to do so
by Dr. Crofts himself. Let it then be considered that Dr. Crofts
had given her some such authority. This may be done in more ways
than one; and Miss Dale could not have found herself asking herself
questions about him, unless there had been fitting occasion for her
to do so.
The profession of a medical man in a small provincial town is not
often one which gives to its owner in early life a large income.
Perhaps in no career has a man to work harder for what he earns, or
to do more work without earning anything. It has sometimes seemed
to me as though the young doctors and the old doctors had agreed to
divide between them the different results of their profession,--the
young doctors doing all the work and the old doctors taking all the
money. If this be so it may account for that appearance of premature
gravity which is borne by so many of the medical profession. Under
such an arrangement a man may be excused for a desire to put away
childish things very early in life.
Dr. Crofts had now been practising in Guestwick nearly seven years,
having settled himself in that town when he was twenty-three years
old, and being at this period about thirty. During those seven
years his skill and industry had been so fully admitted that he had
succeeded in obtaining the medical care of all the paupers in the
union, for which work he was paid at the rate of one hundred pounds
a year. He was also assistant-surgeon at a small hospital which was
maintained in that town, and held two or three other similar public
positions, all of which attested his respectability and general
proficiency. They, moreover, thoroughly saved him from any of the
dangers of idleness; but, unfortunately, they did not enable him
to regard himself as a successful professional man. Whereas old
Dr. Gruffen, of whom but few people spoke well, had made a fortune
in Guestwick, and even still drew from the ailments of the town a
considerable and hardly yet decreasing income. Now this was hard
upon Dr. Crofts--unless there was existing some such well-understood
arrangement as that above named.
He had been known to the family of the Dales long previous to his
settlement at Guestwick, and had been very intimate with them from
that time to the present day. Of all the men, young or old, whom Mrs.
Dale counted among her intimate friends, he was the one whom she most
trusted and admired. And he was a man to be trusted by those who knew
him well. He was not bright and always ready, as was Crosbie, nor had
he all the practical worldly good sense of Bernard Dale. In mental
power I doubt whether he was superior to John Eames;--to John Eames,
such as he might become when the period of his hobbledehoyhood should
have altogether passed away. But Crofts, compared with the other
three, as they all were at present, was a man more to be trusted than
any of them. And there was, moreover, about him an occasional dash
of humour, without which Mrs. Dale would hardly have regarded him
with that thorough liking which she had for him. But it was a quiet
humour, apt to show itself when he had but one friend with him,
rather than in general society. Crosbie, on the other hand, would
be much more bright among a dozen, than he could with a single
companion. Bernard Dale was never bright; and as for Johnny Eames--;
but in this matter of brightness, Johnny Eames had not yet shown to
the world what his character might be.
It was now two years since Crofts had been called upon for medical
advice on behalf of his friend Mrs. Dale. She had then been ill for
a long period--some two or three months, and Dr. Crofts had been
frequent in his visits at Allington. At that time he became very
intimate with Mrs. Dale's daughters, and especially so with the
eldest. Young unmarried doctors ought perhaps to be excluded from
houses in which there are young ladies. I know, at any rate, that
many sage matrons hold very strongly to that opinion, thinking, no
doubt, that doctors ought to get themselves married before they
venture to begin working for a living. Mrs. Dale, perhaps, regarded
her own girls as still merely children, for Bell, the elder, was then
hardly eighteen; or perhaps she held imprudent and heterodox opinions
on this subject; or it may be that she selfishly preferred Dr.
Crofts, with all the danger to her children, to Dr. Gruffen, with
all the danger to herself. But the result was that the young doctor
one day informed himself, as he was riding back to Guestwick, that
much of his happiness in this world would depend on his being able
to marry Mrs. Dale's eldest daughter. At that time his total income
amounted to little more than two hundred a year, and he had resolved
within his own mind that Dr. Gruffen was esteemed as much the better
doctor by the general public opinion of Guestwick, and that Dr.
Gruffen's sandy-haired assistant would even have a better chance of
success in the town than himself, should it ever come to pass that
the doctor was esteemed too old for personal practice. Crofts had no
fortune of his own, and he was aware that Miss Dale had none. Then,
under those circumstances, what was he to do?
It is not necessary that we should inquire at any great length into
those love passages of the doctor's life which took place three years
before the commencement of this narrative. He made no declaration to
Bell; but Bell, young as she was, understood well that he would fain
have done so, had not his courage failed him, or rather had not his
prudence prevented him. To Mrs. Dale he did speak, not openly avowing
his love even to her, but hinting at it, and then talking to her of
his unsatisfied hopes and professional disappointments. "It is not
that I complain of being poor as I am," said he; "or at any rate, not
so poor that my poverty must be any source of discomfort to me; but I
could hardly marry with such an income as I have at present."
"But it will increase, will it not?" said Mrs. Dale.
"It may some day, when I am becoming an old man," he said. "But of
what use will it be to me then?"
Mrs. Dale could not tell him that, as far as her voice in the matter
went, he was welcome to woo her daughter and marry her, poor as
he was, and doubly poor as they would both be together on such a
pittance. He had not even mentioned Bell's name, and had he done
so she could only have bade him wait and hope. After that he said
nothing further to her upon the subject. To Bell he spoke no word
of overt love; but on an autumn day, when Mrs. Dale was already
convalescent, and the repetition of his professional visits had
become unnecessary, he got her to walk with him through the
half-hidden shrubbery paths, and then told her things which he should
never have told her, if he really wished to bind her heart to his.
He repeated that story of his income, and explained to her that
his poverty was only grievous to him in that it prevented him from
thinking of marriage. "I suppose it must," said Bell. "I should think
it wrong to ask any lady to share such an income as mine," said he.
Whereupon Bell had suggested to him that some ladies had incomes of
their own, and that he might in that way get over the difficulty. "I
should be afraid of myself in marrying a girl with money," said he;
"besides, that is altogether out of the question now." Of course
Bell did not ask him why it was out of the question, and for a time
they went on walking in silence. "It is a hard thing to do," he then
said,--not looking at her, but looking at the gravel on which he
stood. "It is a hard thing to do, but I will determine to think of
it no further. I believe a man may be as happy single as he may
married,--almost." "Perhaps more so," said Bell. Then the doctor left
her, and Bell, as I have said before, made up her mind with great
firmness that she was not in love with him. I may certainly say that
there was nothing in the world as to which she was so certain as she
was of this.
And now, in these days, Dr. Crofts did not come over to Allington
very often. Had any of the family in the Small House been ill, he
would have been there of course. The squire himself employed the
apothecary in the village, or if higher aid was needed, would send
for Dr. Gruffen. On the occasion of Mrs. Dale's party, Crofts was
there, having been specially invited; but Mrs. Dale's special
invitations to her friends were very few, and the doctor was well
aware that he must himself make occasion for going there if he
desired to see the inmates of the house. But he very rarely made such
occasion, perhaps feeling that he was more in his element at the
workhouse and the hospital.
Just at this time, however, he made one very great and unexpected
step towards success in his profession. He was greatly surprised one
morning by being summoned to the Manor House to attend upon Lord
De Guest. The family at the Manor had employed Dr. Gruffen for the
last thirty years, and Crofts, when he received the earl's message,
could hardly believe the words. "The earl ain't very bad," said the
servant, "but he would be glad to see you if possible a little before
dinner."
"You're sure he wants to see me?" said Crofts.
"Oh, yes; I'm sure enough of that, sir."
"It wasn't Dr. Gruffen?"
"No, sir; it wasn't Dr. Gruffen. I believe his lordship's had about
enough of Dr. Gruffen. The doctor took to chaffing his lordship one
day."
"Chaffed his lordship;--his hands and feet, and that sort of thing?"
suggested the doctor.
"Hands and feet!" said the man. "Lord bless you, sir, he poked his
fun at him, just as though he was nobody. I didn't hear, but Mrs.
Connor says that my lord's back was up terribly high." And so Dr.
Crofts got on his horse and rode up to Guestwick Manor.
The earl was alone, Lady Julia having already gone to Courcy Castle.
"How d'ye do, how d'ye do?" said the earl. "I'm not very ill, but
I want to get a little advice from you. It's quite a trifle, but
I thought it well to see somebody." Whereupon Dr. Crofts of course
declared that he was happy to wait upon his lordship.
"I know all about you, you know," said the earl. "Your grandmother
Stoddard was a very old friend of my aunt's. You don't remember Lady
Jemima?"
"No," said Crofts. "I never had that honour."
"An excellent old woman, and knew your grandmother Stoddard well. You
see, Gruffen has been attending us for I don't know how many years;
but upon my word--" and then the earl stopped himself.
"It's an ill wind that blows nobody any good," said Crofts, with a
slight laugh.
"Perhaps it 'll blow me some good, for Gruffen never did me any. The
fact is this; I'm very well, you know;--as strong as a horse."
"You look pretty well."
"No man could be better,--not of my age. I'm sixty, you know."
"You don't look as though you were ailing."
"I'm always out in the open air, and that, I take it, is the best
thing for a man."
"There's nothing like plenty of exercise, certainly."
"And I'm always taking exercise," said the earl. "There isn't a man
about the place works much harder than I do. And, let me tell you,
sir, when you undertake to keep six or seven hundred acres of land in
your own hand, you must look after it, unless you mean to lose money
by it."
"I've always heard that your lordship is a good farmer."
"Well, yes; wherever the grass may grow about my place, it doesn't
grow under my feet. You won't often find me in bed at six o'clock,
I can tell you."
After this Dr. Crofts ventured to ask his lordship as to what special
physical deficiency his own aid was invoked at the present time.
"Ah, I was just coming to that," said the earl. "They tell me it's a
very dangerous practice to go to sleep after dinner."
"It's not very uncommon at any rate," said the doctor.
"I suppose not; but Lady Julia is always at me about it. And, to
tell the truth, I think I sleep almost too sound when I get to my
arm-chair in the drawing-room. Sometimes my sister really can't wake
me;--so, at least, she says."
"And how's your appetite at dinner?"
"Oh, I'm quite right there. I never eat any luncheon, you know, and
enjoy my dinner thoroughly. Then I drink three or four glasses of
port wine--"
"And feel sleepy afterwards?"
"That's just it," said the earl.
It is not perhaps necessary that we should inquire what was the exact
nature of the doctor's advice; but it was, at any rate, given in such
a way that the earl said he would be glad to see him again.
"And look here, Doctor Crofts, I'm all alone just at present. Suppose
you come over and dine with me to-morrow; then, if I should go to
sleep, you know, you'll be able to let me know whether Lady Julia
doesn't exaggerate. Just between ourselves, I don't quite believe all
she says about my--my snoring, you know."
Whether it was that the earl restrained his appetite when at dinner
under the doctor's eyes, or whether the mid-day mutton chop which had
been ordered for him had the desired effect, or whether the doctor's
conversation was more lively than that of the Lady Julia, we will not
say; but the earl, on the evening in question, was triumphant. As he
sat in his easy-chair after dinner he hardly winked above once or
twice; and when he had taken the large bowl of tea, which he usually
swallowed in a semi-somnolent condition, he was quite lively.
"Ah, yes," he said, jumping up and rubbing his eyes; "I think I do
feel lighter. I enjoy a snooze after dinner; I do indeed; I like it;
but then, when one comes to go to bed, one does it in such a sneaking
sort of way, as though one were in disgrace! And my sister, she
thinks it a crime--literally a sin, to go to sleep in a chair. Nobody
ever caught her napping! By-the-by, Dr. Crofts, did you know that Mr.
Crosbie whom Bernard Dale brought down to Allington? Lady Julia and
he are staying at the same house now."
"I met him once at Mrs. Dale's."
"Going to marry one of the girls, isn't he?"
Whereupon Dr. Crofts explained that Mr. Crosbie was engaged to Lilian
Dale.
"Ah, yes; a nice girl, I'm told. You know all those Dales are
connections of ours. My sister Fanny married their uncle Orlando. My
brother-in-law doesn't like travelling, and so I don't see very much
of him; but of course I'm interested about the family."
"They're very old friends of mine," said Crofts.
"Yes, I daresay. There are two girls, are there not?"
"Yes, two."
"And Miss Lily is the youngest. There's nothing about the elder one
getting married, is there?"
"I've not heard anything of it."
"A very pretty girl she is, too. I remember seeing her at her uncle's
last year. I shouldn't wonder if she were to marry her cousin
Bernard. He is to have the property, you know; and he's my nephew."
"I'm not quite sure that it's a good thing for cousins to marry,"
said Crofts.
"They do, you know, very often; and it suits some family
arrangements. I suppose Dale must provide for them, and that would
take one off his hands without any trouble."
Dr. Crofts didn't exactly see the matter in this light, but he was
not anxious to argue it very closely with the earl. "The younger
one," he said, "has provided for herself."
"What; by getting a husband? But I suppose Dale must give her
something. They're not married yet, you know, and, from what I hear,
that fellow may prove a slippery customer. He'll not marry her unless
old Dale gives her something. You'll see if he does. I'm told that he
has got another string to his bow at Courcy Castle."
Soon after this, Crofts took his horse and rode home, having promised
the earl that he would dine with him again before long.
"It'll be a great convenience to me if you'd come about that time,"
said the earl, "and as you're a bachelor perhaps you won't mind it.
You'll come on Thursday at seven, will you? Take care of yourself.
It's as dark as pitch. John, go and open the first gates for Dr.
Crofts." And then the earl took himself off to bed.
Crofts, as he rode home, could not keep his mind from thinking of
the two girls at Allington. "He'll not marry her unless old Dale
gives her something." Had it come to that with the world, that a man
must be bribed into keeping his engagement with a lady? Was there
no romance left among mankind,--no feeling of chivalry? "He's got
another string to his bow at Courcy Castle," said the earl; and his
lordship seemed to be in no degree shocked as he said it. It was in
this tone that men spoke of women now-a-days, and yet he himself had
felt such awe of the girl he loved, and such a fear lest he might
injure her in her worldly position, that he had not dared to tell her
that he loved her.