The Rosery Folk Part 15

The sun was up, and streaming in upon them where they stood in the plant-bedecked hall, and it seemed as if its light had sent a flash into the soul of John Scales, M.D., as he gazed sharply into his querist's eyes and then shuddered. For in these moments he seemed to see the owner of that delightful English home, him who, but a few hours before, had been all that was perfect in manly vigour and mental strength, changed into a stricken, nerveless, helpless man, clinging to his wife in the extremity of his child-like dread.

For the time being he could not speak, then struggling against the spell that seemed to hold him fast, he cried angrily--

"No, no! Absurd, absurd! Only a few hours' rest, and he'll be himself."

He hurried into the study, and hastily wrote his prescription, taking it out directly to where the groom was just unfastening the stable-doors.

"Ride over to the town, sir? Yes, sir.--But, beg pardon, sir--Sir James, sir? Is he all right?"

"Oh, getting over it nicely, my man. Be quick."

"I'll be off in five minutes, sir," cried the groom; and within the specified time the horse's hoofs were clattering over the stable-yard as the man rode off.

"Like my patient of whom I spoke!" said the doctor to himself. "Oh, it would be too horrible! Bah! What an idiot I am, thinking like that weak old lady there. What nonsense, to be sure!"

But as he re-entered the room softly, and saw the shrinking, horror-stricken look with which at the very slight sound he made his friend started up, he asked himself whether it was possible that such a terrible change could have taken place, and the more he tried to drive the thought away the stronger it seemed to grow, shadowing him like some black mental cloud till he hardly dared to meet the young wife's questioning eyes, as she besought him silently to help her in this time of need.

Volume 1, Chapter XIII.

AFTER THE MISHAP.

Such an accident could not occur without the news spreading pretty quickly; and in the course of the morning several of the neighbours drove over to make inquiries, the trouble having been so far magnified that, as it travelled in different directions, the number of drowned had varied from one to half-a-dozen; the most sensational report having it that the pleasure-boat had been sunk as well, and that men were busy at work trying to recover it up by the weir.

The groom had returned; the patient had partaken of his sedative draught and sunk into a heavy sleep, watched by his wife; while the doctor had gone to lie down for a few hours' rest, for, as he said, the excitement was at an end, and all that was needful now was plenty of sleep. Arthur Prayle had betaken himself to the garden, where he read, moralised, and watched John Monnick, who in his turn dug, moralised, and watched the visitor from beneath his overhanging brows.

Aunt Sophia and Naomi were in the drawing-room reading and answering letters; the former doing the reading, the latter the answering from dictation; for there was a cessation from the visiting that had gone on all the morning.

"Now I do hope they will leave us at peace," said Aunt Sophia. "Talk, talk, talk, and always in the same strain. I do hate country visiting-calls; and I will not have my correspondence get behind.--Now then, my dear, where were we?"

"East Boodle silver-lead mines," said Naomi. "Ah, of course. Expect to pay a dividend of twelve and a half per cent?"

"Yes, aunt dear," said the girl, referring to a prospectus.

"Humph! That's very different from consols. I think I shall have some of those shares, Naomi."

"Do you, aunt?"

"Do I, child? Why, of course. It's like throwing money in the gutter, to be content with three per cent, when you can have twelve and a half.

Write and tell Mr Saxby to buy me fifty shares."

"Yes, aunt dear. But do you think it would be safe?"

"Safe, child? Yes, of course. You read what all those captains said-- Captain Pengummon and Captain Trehum and Captain Polwhiddle."

"But Mr Saxby said, aunt, that some of these Cornish mines were very risky speculations; don't you remember?"

"No, my dear; I don't. I wonder that I remember anything, after yesterday's shock."

"But I remember, aunt dear," said the girl. "He said that if these mines would pay such enormous dividends, was it likely that the shares would go begging, and the owners be obliged to advertise to get them taken up."

"Yes; and Captain Polwhiddle in his printed Report says that there is a lode of unexampled richness not yet tapped; though one would think the silver-lead was in a melted state, for them to have to tap it."

"Yes, aunt dear; but Mr Saxby said that these people always have a bit of rich ore on purpose to make a show."

"I don't believe people would be so dishonest, my dear; and as for Mr Saxby--he's a goose. No more courage or speculation in him than a frog.

Not so much. A frog will travel about and investigate things; while Mr Saxby sits boxed up in his office all day long, and as soon as a good opportunity occurs, he spoils it. I might have made a large fortune by now, if it had not been for him. Write and tell him to buy me a hundred twenty-pound shares."

The letter was written, read over by Aunt Sophia, in a very judicial manner, through her gold-rimmed eyegla.s.s, approved, and had just been addressed and stamped, when there was the sound of wheels once more, and the servant shortly after announced Lady Martlett.

At the same moment the visitor and Doctor Scales entered the drawing-room from opposite doors, the latter feeling bright and refreshed by his nap; and Aunt Sophia and Naomi looked on wonderingly as Lady Martlett stopped short and the doctor smiled.

Her Ladyship was the first to recover herself, and walked towards Aunt Sophia with stately carriage and extended hand. "I have only just heard of the accident," she said in a sweet rich voice. "My dear Miss Raleigh, I am indeed deeply grieved." She bent forward and kissed Aunt Sophia, and then embraced Naomi, before drawing herself up in a stately statuesque manner, darting a quick flash of her fine eyes at the doctor and haughtily waiting to be introduced.

"It's very kind of you, my dear Lady Martlett," said Aunt Sophia--"very kind indeed; and I'm glad to say that, thanks to Doctor Scales here, my poor nephew has nearly recovered from the shock.--But I forgot; you have not been introduced. Lady Martlett; Doctor Scales."

"Doctor Scales and I have had the pleasure of meeting before," said Lady Martlett coldly.

"Yes," said the doctor; "I had the pleasure of being of a little a.s.sistance to her Ladyship;" and as he spoke he took a sixpence out of his pocket, turned it over, advanced a step with the coin between his finger and thumb, as if about to hand it to its former owner; but instead of doing so, he replaced it in his pocket and smiled.

Lady Martlett apparently paid no heed to this movement, but bowed and turned to Aunt Sophia; while the doctor said to himself: "Now, that was very weak, and decidedly impertinent. I deserved a snub."

"Doctor Scales and I met last week--the day before--really, I hardly recollect," said Lady Martlett. "It was while I was out for a morning ride. He was polite enough to open a gate for me."

"Oh, indeed!" said Aunt Sophia quietly; and she wondered why the visitor should be so impressive about so trifling a matter.

"And now, tell me all about the accident," said Lady Martlett; "I am so fond of the water, and it seems so shocking for such an innocent amus.e.m.e.nt to be attended with so much risk."

"I was always afraid of the water," said Aunt Sophia; "and not without reason," she added severely; "but against my own convictions I went."

"But Sir James is in no danger?"

"O dear, no," said the doctor quickly.

"I am glad of that," said the visitor, without turning her head, and taking the announcement as if it had come from Aunt Sophia.

"Thanks to Doctor Scales's bravery and able treatment," said Aunt Sophia.

"Pray, spare me," said the doctor, laughing. "I am so accustomed to blame, that I cannot bear praise."

"I am not praising you," said Aunt Sophia, "but telling the simple truth.--What do you say, Naomi?"

"I did not speak, aunt," replied the girl.

"Tut! child; who said you did?" cried Aunt Sophia pettishly. "You know that the doctor saved your cousin's life."

"O yes, indeed," cried Naomi, blushing, and looking up brightly and gratefully; and then shrinking and seeming conscious, as her eyes met those of their visitor gazing at her with an aspect mingled of contempt and anger--a look that made gentle, little, quiet Naomi retire as it were within herself, closing up her petals like some sensitive bud attacked by sun or rain.

The doctor saw it, and had his thoughts upon the matter, as, upon his threatening to beat a retreat, Aunt Sophia said: "Well, never mind; I can think what I please."