Blind Policy Part 6

"Oh, tut, tut, doctor! I thought we had settled this. Surely after your telegram, taken to the chief office, madam, your wife, will not be uneasy."

As he spoke he gave the lady by the couch a mocking look, and Chester saw her turn angrily away.

It was on the doctor's lips to say sharply, "I am not married, sir," and he felt startled as he checked himself.

Why should he have been so eager to say that? he thought, and a peculiar feeling of resentment grew within, as a strange conscience-p.r.i.c.king began to startle him. Of what folly had he been guilty in thought?

"Come, doctor, we have been waiting till you woke before having some breakfast."

The speaker rose and touched the electric bell-push, then led the way toward a small table at the far end of the room, the others waiting for the doctor to follow; but he stood irresolute.

"You will join us at breakfast, doctor?" said a low, sweet voice at his side, making him start slightly, and then follow to the table, to take the place pointed out by his companion on her right, as she took the head of the table.

"As his wife," thought Chester; then trying hard to be perfectly cool, and a.s.suming to be treating his position lightly, he partook of the meal placed before him, and joined in the general conversation, a great deal of which dealt with the popular out-door life of the day--Lord's, Ascot, the promises of sport in August and September, and the ordinary topics of the hour, all lightly traversed by a party of gentlemen who had ample incomes for their needs, and enjoyed life.

The ladies were increased to three when they took their seats at the table, and Chester soon found that two were the young wives of "Jem" and "Paddy," the bluff, manly fellow; and all seemed so intent now upon ignoring the trouble and setting their prisoner guest at his ease, that Chester's manner softened, and before they rose from the table he found himself listening with increasing interest to his neighbour's remarks.

The excellent meal came at last to an end, and after a few words with Chester's companion, two of the ladies retired while the housekeeper quietly cleared the table; and as Marion, as they all called her, went to the side of the couch, Jem approached Chester.

"The papers," he said in the most matter-of-fact way. "Cigars and cigarettes on that table. Spirits and soda or seltzer in the cellarette. Pray make yourself at home, my dear doctor, and name anything you want. It shall be obtained directly--everything, that is, but liberty. Won't you light up now? My cousin there will not mind; we all smoke. Eh, Marion?"

"I beg that Dr Chester will not hesitate," said the lady addressed, and Chester drew a deep breath as he saw her cross to the table and fetch a cigarette-box and matches.

"It would be ungracious to refuse," he said coldly, as he took one, and then the lighted match from the white fingers which offered it, their eyes meeting as he lit his cigarette, and as a slight flush mantled the lady's cheeks, Chester's heart gave one heavy throb.

The rest of that night-like day pa.s.sed in a dream, or a time in which Chester felt as if he were suffering from some form of enchantment. He fought hard against the strange, new, mystic influence, and strove to raise like a shield to protect him, his honour, his word; and again and again as he busied himself with his patient he told himself that he dearly loved Isabel, his betrothed, but this feeling was all as new as it was masterful, and often when he met the eyes of her who never left the couch in her a.s.siduous attentions as nurse, he felt that he was drifting fast into a state of slavery, and that this woman was his fate.

"She is another's wife," he kept telling himself; "and I am an utter scoundrel to give way to such thoughts. Heaven help me! I must go before it is too late. Have I been drugged, and has the potent medicament sapped me to the very core?"

But he felt that he could not go as yet, for though it was unnoticed by the others, he saw that a change for the worse had taken place toward evening, at a time when all had left the room but the big, athletic fellow and Marion, they being evidently left on guard while a short rest was taken.

Paddy was sitting back smoking, with his eyes half-closed; but he suddenly roused himself up and came across to the couch.

"How is he getting on?" he whispered.

Chester was silent, and after glancing at him, Marion spoke--

"He is better; sleeping well, and in less pain."

"Don't look better," grunted the young man, and he glanced at his watch.

"Dinner at eight. Like to go and lie down, Marion?"

"No," was the quiet reply.

"All right," said the young man, and he walked back to his seat, while Marion waited for a few moments, and then, gazing wistfully at Chester, said in a low whisper--

"You did not speak. He is better, is he not?"

The young doctor made no reply, but sat there breathing hard, as if fascinated.

"I cannot tell you how grateful I feel to you," she continued. "Your coming here has saved poor dear Robert's life. I know how strange it all must seem to you, but I--we dare not let you go. It is such a terrible emergency."

"Yes," he said softly, "and I have done my best."

"But I cannot help reading it in your eyes, doctor--you are thinking of leaving."

He started slightly, and then turned his eyes to his patient so as to avoid the gaze which held him in spite of the mental struggle against what seemed to be fate.

"Well," he said, as he laid his hand upon the sufferer's brow, "I am.

Is it not natural? Yes," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely, "by some means I must and will leave this house to-night."

Her face grew convulsed, and for a few moments she was silent. Then in a low, impa.s.sioned whisper, she reached across the couch to lay her hand upon his arm, the contact seeming to send a hot flush through every nerve, and he turned to gaze at her with a look half horror, half delight.

"And you hold his life in your hands," she murmured piteously. "What can I say?--what can I do to move you? Doctor, he is everything to me in this world. If he--died, I could not live."

"For Heaven's sake, don't look at me--don't speak to me like that!" he whispered back, and he took her hand to remove it from his arm, shivering as if it were some venomous thing; but it turned and clung to his fast, and was joined by the other. "Madam, I have done, and am doing, everything I can to save your husband's life, and--"

He ceased speaking, for he saw her lips part in a smile, and her wild eyes grew soft and humid, as, with a little laugh, she said--

"Dearest Rob! My husband!" Then she loosed the hand she held, laid hers upon the head of the couch, and bending down she softly pressed her lips against the patient's brow, while a feeling of bitter jealousy sent the blood surging through Chester's brain, till the eyes were turned again to his, and, with a look that sent every forming manly intention flying to the winds, she said softly--

"Why did you think that? Doctor, for a poor, pleading woman's sake, give up all thought of going. I could not bear it. There--look--his face is growing convulsed," she whispered in a quick, agitated tone, "And you talk of going! He is dying. Robert! Robert! Oh, doctor, do you not see?"

CHAPTER FIVE.

AUNT GRACE SOWS THE SEED OF DISCONTENT.

Laura Chester possessed what her aunt termed a bad habit.

"You are so restless, my dear," said that lady. "Why can't you stay in your bed of a morning, and then come down at a Christian-like hour?"

"Nine o'clock, aunt dear," said the girl, smiling.

"Well, say a quarter to, my dear, because that gives ample time to ring for the urn and make the tea, though nine is really a very nice hour.

It is not right for a young lady to be racing downstairs before seven o'clock and dusting; and I do not really like for you to be going out for walks at such early hours."

"London is at its best before breakfast, aunt; everything looks so fresh and bright."

"What nonsense, my dear! Nothing of the kind. The steps are not cleaned, and there is n.o.body about but sweeps and dustmen, and milk carts."

"Oh yes, aunt dear," cried Laura, merrily. "London is very busy then, and I wish I could get you to come. Covent Garden is lovely quite early with the flowers and fruit."

"My dear Laura, to hear you talk anyone would think your poor dear papa had been a greengrocer. Pray, do, my dear, try and give up the bad habit. I really don't know what Isabel must think."

But the habit only grew stronger, and on the morning after her brother's sudden call, Laura slipped out while cook was cleaning the steps and went off to Covent Garden to return with a bunch of roses and a basket of strawberries which had been picked that morning nine miles down the western road.