The Star-Gazers Part 80

THE IMAGE FADES.

"Oh, how you startled me."

"Can't help being ugly," said Oldroyd merrily. "Eliza said you had come in, and were down the garden, so I took the liberty of following."

"Does mamma know?" said Lucy, with a guilty look at the house.

"I really can't tell," said Oldroyd, smiling. "I shall not look for her permission now, since I consider myself your duly qualified medical attendant, your life physician, I hope."

"Really, Mr Oldroyd," said Lucy, "you need not feel my pulse to-day."

"Indeed, but I must," he said; "and look into your eyes to see if they are clear."

"What nonsense!" said Lucy. "I suppose next you'll want me to put out my tongue."

"No," he said laughing, "your lips will do."

"Philip! For shame! Anyone might have seen. You shouldn't."

"Save that I would not have anyone witness of so holy a joy as that kiss was to me," whispered Oldroyd, "the whole world might see my love for you, little wife to be. There's no shame in it, Lucy. I am so happy.

And you?"

"I'm very, very miserable," she cried, looking in his face with eyes that denied the fact.

"Then you are to tell me your trouble," he whispered, fondly, "and I am to console you."

"But I don't think you can, Philip."

"Well, let us hear," he said. "What is the trouble?"

"It is about poor Moray."

"Ah! Yes!" said Oldroyd slowly.

"And Glynne!"

"Whom you have just been to see, eh?"

"Yes."

"I once knew a case," said Oldroyd, "where two people were most tenderly attached to each other--the gentleman far more so than the lady; but they, loving as they did, were kept apart by foolish doubts and misconceptions and pride."

"It is not true," said Lucy sharply.

"That they were kept apart like that?"

"No; that--that--"

"The gentleman was more deeply touched than the lady? No; that part is not true. It was just the reverse."

"And that is not true either," said Lucy archly.

"Well, we'll not argue the point," said Oldroyd, laughing. "But I'll go on. In their case no one interfered to set matters straight, and they only came right through the tender affection and good heart of the dearest little girl who ever lived."

"You may say that again, Philip," said Lucy, nestling to him, and looking up through a veil of tears; "but it isn't a bit true. I'm afraid I was very, very weak, and proud and foolish, and I feel now as if I could never forgive myself for much that I have done."

"I'll forgive you, and you shall forgive me," said Oldroyd. "And now I don't think I need go on speaking in parables. I only wanted to point out the difference. Our trouble arranged itself without the help of friends. That of someone else ought soon to be set right, with two such energetic people as ourselves to help."

"But sometimes interference makes matters worse," sighed Lucy.

"Yes; because those who see about these matters are ignorant pretenders.

Now, we are both duly qualified pract.i.tioners, Lucy, and, I think, can settle the matter right off, and cure them both."

"But how? It is so dreadful."

"Lucy, Lucy!"

It was a sharp, agonised call, as of one in extreme anguish, and, startled by the cry, Lucy sprang up and ran towards the house, closely followed by Oldroyd.

"Mamma, dear mamma, what is it?" she cried.

"Your brother. Oh, thank heaven, Mr Oldroyd, you are here."

"What is it?" cried Oldroyd, catching Mrs Alleyne's white and trembling hand.

"I--I went--I ventured to go into the observatory just now, my son seemed so quiet, and--oh, heaven, what have I done that I should suffer this?"

It was a wild appeal, uttered by one in deep agony of spirit, as Mrs Alleyne reeled, and would have fallen, had not Oldroyd caught her in his arms, and gently lowered her on the carpet.

"Only fainting," he whispered. "Let her lie; loosen her dress, and bathe her face. I'll run on to your brother."

Satisfied that he was not wanted there, and, giving Lucy an encouraging nod, Oldroyd ran quickly along the pa.s.sage to the observatory, whose door he found open, but almost in total darkness, for the shutters were carefully closed, and the shaded lamp gave so little light, save in one place on the far side of the table, that he was compelled to cross the great room cautiously, for fear of falling over some one or other of the philosophical instruments, whose places the student often changed.

On reaching the table, he could see that Alleyne was lying p.r.o.ne upon the well-worn rug before his chair; and, making his way to the window, Oldroyd tore open the shutters, admitting a burst of sunshine, and completely changing the aspect of the great dusty place.

Going back to the table, he took in the position at a glance. There were bottles there, in a little rack such a chemist would use, and one stood alone.

He caught it up, removed the stopper, then put it down with an impatient "Pish!" and was turning to the prostrate man, when, previously hidden by a book, another stopper caught his eye, and, drawing in his breath with a loud hiss, he sprang to Alleyne's side, to find that the fingers of his right hand tightly clasped a small cut-gla.s.s bottle, the one to which the stopper belonged.

"I was afraid so," muttered Oldroyd, with his eyes scanning the white, fixed countenance before him. "He must have taken it as he stood by the table, and fallen at once. Poor fellow! Poor fellow! He must have been mad."

These words were uttered as, with all the prompt decision of a medical man, Oldroyd was examining his friend; his first act being to ascertain what the little bottle had contained.

It was no easy task to free it from the stiffened fingers; but he tore it away at last, held it to the light, to his nostrils, and then set it quickly upon the table, with an impatient exclamation.

"And I call myself a practised doctor," he muttered, "and let my fancy carry me away as it did. Poor fellow! He must have felt it coming on, and tried that ammonia to keep off the sensation. Suffered from it before, perhaps," he continued, as he laid Alleyne's head more easily, tore open his handkerchief and collar; and then, after drawing up the lids and examining the pupils of his eyes, he hurriedly threw open both windows, and caught up a chart from a side table.

His next act was to ring the bell furiously, and then return to Alleyne's side and begin fanning his head vigorously.