Doctor Thorne Part 49

"He's not strong; I know that. How should he be strong, living as he has done? Not that it seemed to hurt me when I was his age."

"You had the advantage of hard work."

"That's it. Sometimes I wish that Louis had not a shilling in the world; that he had to trudge about with an ap.r.o.n round his waist as I did. But it's too late now to think of that. If he would only marry, doctor."

Dr Thorne again expressed an opinion that no step would be so likely to reform the habits of the young heir as marriage; and repeated his advice to the father to implore his son to take a wife.

"I'll tell you what, Thorne," said he. And then, after a pause, he went on. "I have not half told you as yet what is on my mind; and I'm nearly afraid to tell it; though, indeed, I don't know why I should be."

"I never knew you afraid of anything yet," said the doctor, smiling gently.

"Well, then, I'll not end by turning coward. Now, doctor, tell the truth to me; what do you expect me to do for that girl of yours that we were talking of--Mary's child?"

There was a pause for a moment, for Thorne was slow to answer him.

"You would not let me see her, you know, though she is my niece as truly as she is yours."

"Nothing," at last said the doctor, slowly. "I expect nothing. I would not let you see her, and therefore, I expect nothing."

"She will have it all if poor Louis should die," said Sir Roger.

"If you intend it so you should put her name into the will," said the other. "Not that I ask you or wish you to do so. Mary, thank G.o.d, can do without wealth."

"Thorne, on one condition I will put her name into it. I will alter it all on one condition. Let the two cousins be man and wife--let Louis marry poor Mary's child."

The proposition for a moment took away the doctor's breath, and he was unable to answer. Not for all the wealth of India would he have given up his lamb to that young wolf, even though he had had the power to do so. But that lamb--lamb though she was--had, as he well knew, a will of her own on such a matter. What alliance could be more impossible, thought he to himself, than one between Mary Thorne and Louis Scatcherd?

"I will alter it all if you will give me your hand upon it that you will do your best to bring about this marriage. Everything shall be his on the day he marries her; and should he die unmarried, it shall all then be hers by name. Say the word, Thorne, and she shall come here at once. I shall yet have time to see her."

But Dr Thorne did not say the word; just at the moment he said nothing, but he slowly shook his head.

"Why not, Thorne?"

"My friend, it is impossible."

"Why impossible?"

"Her hand is not mine to dispose of, nor is her heart."

"Then let her come over herself."

"What! Scatcherd, that the son might make love to her while the father is so dangerously ill! Bid her come to look for a rich husband! That would not be seemly, would it?"

"No; not for that: let her come merely that I may see her; that we may all know her. I will leave the matter then in your hands if you will promise me to do your best."

"But, my friend, in this matter I cannot do my best. I can do nothing. And, indeed, I may say at once, that it is altogether out of the question. I know--"

"What do you know?" said the baronet, turning on him almost angrily.

"What can you know to make you say that it is impossible? Is she a pearl of such price that a man may not win her?"

"She is a pearl of great price."

"Believe me, doctor, money goes far in winning such pearls."

"Perhaps so; I know little about it. But this I do know, that money will not win her. Let us talk of something else; believe me it is useless for us to think of this."

"Yes; if you set your face against it obstinately. You must think very poorly of Louis if you suppose that no girl can fancy him."

"I have not said so, Scatcherd."

"To have the spending of ten thousand a year, and be a baronet's lady! Why, doctor, what is it you expect for this girl?"

"Not much, indeed; not much. A quiet heart and a quiet home; not much more."

"Thorne, if you will be ruled by me in this, she shall be the most topping woman in this county."

"My friend, my friend, why thus grieve me? Why should you thus hara.s.s yourself? I tell you it is impossible. They have never seen each other; they have nothing, and can have nothing in common; their tastes, and wishes, and pursuits are different. Besides, Scatcherd, marriages never answer that are so made; believe me, it is impossible."

The contractor threw himself back on his bed, and lay for some ten minutes perfectly quiet; so much so that the doctor began to think that he was sleeping. So thinking, and wearied by the watching, Dr Thorne was beginning to creep quietly from the room, when his companion again roused himself, almost with vehemence.

"You won't do this thing for me, then?" said he.

"Do it! It is not for you or me to do such things as that. Such things must be left to those concerned themselves."

"You will not even help me?"

"Not in this thing, Sir Roger."

"Then, by ----, she shall not under any circ.u.mstances ever have a shilling of mine. Give me some of that stuff there," and he again pointed to the brandy bottle which stood ever within his sight.

The doctor poured out and handed to him another small modic.u.m of spirit.

"Nonsense, man; fill the gla.s.s. I'll stand no nonsense now. I'll be master in my own house to the last. Give it here, I tell you. Ten thousand devils are tearing me within. You--you could have comforted me; but you would not. Fill the gla.s.s I tell you."

"I should be killing you were I to do it."

"Killing me! killing me! you are always talking of killing me. Do you suppose that I am afraid to die? Do not I know how soon it is coming?

Give me the brandy, I say, or I will be out across the room to fetch it."

"No, Scatcherd. I cannot give it to you; not while I am here. Do you remember how you were engaged this morning?"--he had that morning taken the sacrament from the parish clergyman--"you would not wish to make me guilty of murder, would you?"

"Nonsense! You are talking nonsense; habit is second nature. I tell you I shall sink without it. Why, you know I always get it directly your back is turned. Come, I will not be bullied in my own house; give me that bottle, I say!"--and Sir Roger essayed, vainly enough, to raise himself from the bed.

"Stop, Scatcherd; I will give it you--I will help you. It may be that habit is second nature." Sir Roger in his determined energy had swallowed, without thinking of it, the small quant.i.ty which the doctor had before poured out for him, and still held the empty gla.s.s within his hand. This the doctor now took and filled nearly to the brim.

"Come, Thorne, a b.u.mper; a b.u.mper for this once. 'Whatever the drink, it a b.u.mper must be.' You stingy fellow! I would not treat you so.

Well--well."