"You lawyers never like to give an opinion without money, ha! ha! ha!
Do they, Mr Gresham? You and I have had to pay for plenty of them, and will have to pay for plenty more before they let us alone."
Here Mr Gazebee got up, and followed Mr Oriel out of the room. He was not, of course, on such intimate terms in the house as was Mr Oriel; but he hoped to be forgiven by the ladies in consequence of the severity of the miseries to which he was subjected. He and Mr Oriel were soon to be seen through the dining-room window, walking about the grounds with the two eldest Miss Greshams. And Patience Oriel, who had also been of the party, was also to be seen with the twins.
Frank looked at his father with almost a malicious smile, and began to think that he too might be better employed out among the walks.
Did he think then of a former summer evening, when he had half broken Mary's heart by walking there too lovingly with Patience Oriel?
Sir Louis, if he continued his brilliant career of success, would soon be left the c.o.c.k of the walk. The squire, to be sure, could not bolt, nor could the doctor very well; but they might be equally vanquished, remaining there in their chairs. Dr Thorne, during all this time, was sitting with tingling ears. Indeed, it may be said that his whole body tingled. He was in a manner responsible for this horrid scene; but what could he do to stop it? He could not take Sir Louis up bodily and carry him away. One idea did occur to him. The fly had been ordered for ten o'clock. He could rush out and send for it instantly.
"You're not going to leave me?" said the squire, in a voice of horror, as he saw the doctor rising from his chair.
"Oh, no, no, no," said the doctor; and then he whispered the purpose of his mission. "I will be back in two minutes." The doctor would have given twenty pounds to have closed the scene at once; but he was not the man to desert his friend in such a strait as that.
"He's a well-meaning fellow, the doctor," said Sir Louis, when his guardian was out of the room, "very; but he's not up to trap--not at all."
"Up to trap--well, I should say he was; that is, if I know what trap means," said Frank.
"Ah, but that's just the ticket. Do you know? Now I say Dr Thorne's not a man of the world."
"He's about the best man I know, or ever heard of," said the squire.
"And if any man ever had a good friend, you have got one in him; and so have I:" and the squire silently drank the doctor's health.
"All very true, I dare say; but yet he's not up to trap. Now look here, squire--"
"If you don't mind, sir," said Frank, "I've got something very particular--perhaps, however--"
"Stay till Thorne returns, Frank."
Frank did stay till Thorne returned, and then escaped.
"Excuse me, doctor," said he, "but I've something very particular to say; I'll explain to-morrow." And then the three were left alone.
Sir Louis was now becoming almost drunk, and was knocking his words together. The squire had already attempted to stop the bottle; but the baronet had contrived to get hold of a modic.u.m of Madeira, and there was no preventing him from helping himself; at least, none at that moment.
"As we were saying about lawyers," continued Sir Louis. "Let's see, what were we saying? Why, squire, it's just here. Those fellows will fleece us both if we don't mind what we are after."
"Never mind about lawyers now," said Dr Thorne, angrily.
"Ah, but I do mind; most particularly. That's all very well for you, doctor; you've nothing to lose. You've no great stake in the matter.
Why, now, what sum of money of mine do you think those d---- doctors are handling?"
"D---- doctors!" said the squire in a tone of dismay.
"Lawyers, I mean, of course. Why, now, Gresham; we're all totted now, you see; you're down in my books, I take it, for pretty near a hundred thousand pounds."
"Hold your tongue, sir," said the doctor, getting up.
"Hold my tongue!" said Sir Louis.
"Sir Louis Scatcherd," said the squire, slowly rising from his chair, "we will not, if you please, talk about business at the present moment. Perhaps we had better go to the ladies."
This latter proposition had certainly not come from the squire's heart: going to the ladies was the very last thing for which Sir Louis was now fit. But the squire had said it as being the only recognised formal way he could think of for breaking up the symposium.
"Oh, very well," hiccupped the baronet, "I'm always ready for the ladies," and he stretched out his hand to the decanter to get a last gla.s.s of Madeira.
"No," said the doctor, rising stoutly, and speaking with a determined voice. "No; you will have no more wine:" and he took the decanter from him.
"What's all this about?" said Sir Louis, with a drunken laugh.
"Of course he cannot go into the drawing-room, Mr Gresham. If you will leave him here with me, I will stay with him till the fly comes. Pray tell Lady Arabella from me, how sorry I am that this has occurred."
The squire would not leave his friend, and they sat together till the fly came. It was not long, for the doctor had dispatched his messenger with much haste.
"I am so heartily ashamed of myself," said the doctor, almost with tears.
The squire took him by the hand affectionately. "I've seen a tipsy man before to-night," said he.
"Yes," said the doctor, "and so have I, but--" He did not express the rest of his thoughts.
CHAPTER x.x.xVI
Will He Come Again?
Long before the doctor returned home after the little dinner-party above described, Mary had learnt that Frank was already at Greshamsbury. She had heard nothing of him or from him, not a word, nothing in the shape of a message, for twelve months; and at her age twelve months is a long period. Would he come and see her in spite of his mother? Would he send her any tidings of his return, or notice her in any way? If he did not, what would she do? and if he did, what then would she do? It was so hard to resolve; so hard to be deserted; and so hard to dare to wish that she might not be deserted! She continued to say to herself, that it would be better that they should be strangers; and she could hardly keep herself from tears in the fear that they might be so. What chance could there be that he should care for her, after an absence spent in travelling over the world?
No; she would forget that affair of his hand; and then, immediately after having so determined, she would confess to herself that it was a thing not to be forgotten, and impossible of oblivion.
On her uncle's return, she would hear some word about him; and so she sat alone, with a book before her, of which she could not read a line. She expected them about eleven, and was, therefore, rather surprised when the fly stopped at the door before nine.
She immediately heard her uncle's voice, loud and angry, calling for Thomas. Both Thomas and Bridget were unfortunately out, being, at this moment, forgetful of all sublunary cares, and seated in happiness under a beech-tree in the park. Janet flew to the little gate, and there found Sir Louis insisting that he would be taken at once to his own mansion at Boxall Hill, and positively swearing that he would no longer submit to the insult of the doctor's surveillance.
In the absence of Thomas, the doctor was forced to apply for a.s.sistance to the driver of the fly. Between them the baronet was dragged out of the vehicle, the windows suffered much, and the doctor's hat also. In this way, he was taken upstairs, and was at last put to bed, Janet a.s.sisting; nor did the doctor leave the room till his guest was asleep. Then he went into the drawing-room to Mary. It may easily be conceived that he was hardly in a humour to talk much about Frank Gresham.
"What am I to do with him?" said he, almost in tears: "what am I to do with him?"
"Can you not send him to Boxall Hill?" asked Mary.
"Yes; to kill himself there! But it is no matter; he will kill himself somewhere. Oh! what that family have done for me!" And then, suddenly remembering a portion of their doings, he took Mary in his arms, and kissed and blessed her; and declared that, in spite of all this, he was a happy man.
There was no word about Frank that night. The next morning the doctor found Sir Louis very weak, and begging for stimulants. He was worse than weak; he was in such a state of wretched misery and mental prostration; so low in heart, in such collapse of energy and spirit, that Dr Thorne thought it prudent to remove his razors from his reach.
"For G.o.d's sake do let me have a little _cha.s.se-cafe_; I'm always used to it; ask Joe if I'm not! You don't want to kill me, do you?"
And the baronet cried piteously, like a child, and, when the doctor left him for the breakfast-table, abjectly implored Janet to get him some curacoa which he knew was in one of his portmanteaus. Janet, however, was true to her master.
The doctor did give him some wine; and then, having left strict orders as to his treatment--Bridget and Thomas being now both in the house--went forth to some of his too much neglected patients.
Then Mary was again alone, and her mind flew away to her lover. How should she be able to compose herself when she should first see him?