Part 69 (1/2)

Do come and dine here to-morrow, and bring Sir Louis Scatcherd with you. If you're the man I take you to be, you won't refuse me. Lady Arabella sends a note for Sir Louis. There will be n.o.body here but Oriel, and Mr Gazebee, who is staying in the house.

Yours ever,

F. N. GRESHAM.

Greshamsbury, July, 185--.

P.S.--I make a positive request that you'll come, and I think you will hardly refuse me.

The doctor read it twice before he could believe it, and then ordered Janet to take the other note up to Sir Louis. As these invitations were rather in opposition to the then existing Greshamsbury tactics, the cause of Lady Arabella's special civility must be explained.

Mr Mortimer Gazebee was now at the house, and therefore, it must be presumed, that things were not allowed to go on after their old fas.h.i.+on. Mr Gazebee was an acute as well as a fas.h.i.+onable man; one who knew what he was about, and who, moreover, had determined to give his very best efforts on behalf of the Greshamsbury property. His energy, in this respect, will explain itself hereafter. It was not probable that the arrival in the village of such a person as Sir Louis Scatcherd should escape attention. He had heard of it before dinner, and, before the evening was over, had discussed it with Lady Arabella.

Her ladys.h.i.+p was not at first inclined to make much of Sir Louis, and expressed herself as but little inclined to agree with Mr Gazebee when that gentleman suggested that he should be treated with civility at Greshamsbury. But she was at last talked over. She found it pleasant enough to have more to do with the secret management of the estate than Mr Gresham himself; and when Mr Gazebee proved to her, by sundry nods and winks, and subtle allusions to her own infinite good sense, that it was necessary to catch this obscene bird which had come to prey upon the estate, by throwing a little salt upon his tail, she also nodded and winked, and directed Augusta to prepare the salt according to order.

”But won't it be odd, Mr Gazebee, asking him out of Dr Thorne's house?”

”Oh, we must have the doctor, too, Lady Arabella; by all means ask the doctor also.”

Lady Arabella's brow grew dark. ”Mr Gazebee,” she said, ”you can hardly believe how that man has behaved to me.”

”He is altogether beneath your anger,” said Mr Gazebee, with a bow.

”I don't know: in one way he may be, but not in another. I really do not think I can sit down to table with Doctor Thorne.”

But, nevertheless, Mr Gazebee gained his point. It was now about a week since Sir Omicron Pie had been at Greshamsbury, and the squire had, almost daily, spoken to his wife as to that learned man's advice. Lady Arabella always answered in the same tone: ”You can hardly know, Mr Gresham, how that man has insulted me.” But, nevertheless, the physician's advice had not been disbelieved: it tallied too well with her own inward convictions. She was anxious enough to have Doctor Thorne back at her bedside, if she could only get him there without damage to her pride. Her husband, she thought, might probably send the doctor there without absolute permission from herself; in which case she would have been able to scold, and show that she was offended; and, at the same time, profit by what had been done. But Mr Gresham never thought of taking so violent a step as this, and, therefore, Dr Fillgrave still came, and her ladys.h.i.+p's _finesse_ was wasted in vain.

But Mr Gazebee's proposition opened a door by which her point might be gained. ”Well,” said she, at last, with infinite self-denial, ”if you think it is for Mr Gresham's advantage, and if he chooses to ask Dr Thorne, I will not refuse to receive him.”

Mr Gazebee's next task was to discuss the matter with the squire. Nor was this easy, for Mr Gazebee was no favourite with Mr Gresham. But the task was at last performed successfully. Mr Gresham was so glad at heart to find himself able, once more, to ask his old friend to his own house; and, though it would have pleased him better that this sign of relenting on his wife's part should have reached him by other means, he did not refuse to take advantage of it; and so he wrote the above letter to Dr Thorne.

The doctor, as we have said, read it twice; and he at once resolved stoutly that he would not go.

”Oh, do, do go!” said Mary. She well knew how wretched this feud had made her uncle. ”Pray, pray go!”

”Indeed, I will not,” said he. ”There are some things a man should bear, and some he should not.”

”You must go,” said Mary, who had taken the note from her uncle's hand, and read it. ”You cannot refuse him when he asks you like that.”

”It will greatly grieve me; but I must refuse him.”

”I also am angry, uncle; very angry with Lady Arabella; but for him, for the squire, I would go to him on my knees if he asked me in that way.”

”Yes; and had he asked you, I also would have gone.”

”Oh! now I shall be so wretched. It is his invitation, not hers: Mr Gresham could not ask me. As for her, do not think of her; but do, do go when he asks you like that. You will make me so miserable if you do not. And then Sir Louis cannot go without you,”--and Mary pointed upstairs--”and you may be sure that he will go.”

”Yes; and make a beast of himself.”

This colloquy was cut short by a message praying the doctor to go up to Sir Louis's room. The young man was sitting in his dressing-gown, drinking a cup of coffee at his toilet-table, while Joe was preparing his razor and hot water. The doctor's nose immediately told him that there was more in the coffee-cup than had come out of his own kitchen, and he would not let the offence pa.s.s unnoticed.

”Are you taking brandy this morning, Sir Louis?”