Part 75 (1/2)
”It's very hard on a fellow like me; I have n.o.body to say a kind word to me; no, not one.” And Sir Louis, in his wretchedness, began to weep. ”Come, doctor; if you'll put me once more on my legs, I'll let you draw on the estate for five hundred pounds; by G----, I will.”
The doctor went away to his dinner, and the baronet also had his in bed. He could not eat much, but he was allowed two gla.s.ses of wine, and also a little brandy in his coffee. This somewhat invigorated him, and when Dr Thorne again went to him, in the evening, he did not find him so utterly prostrated in spirit. He had, indeed, made up his mind to a great resolve; and thus unfolded his final scheme for his own reformation:--
”Doctor,” he began again, ”I believe you are an honest fellow; I do indeed.”
Dr Thorne could not but thank him for his good opinion.
”You ain't annoyed at what I said this morning, are you?”
The doctor had forgotten the particular annoyance to which Sir Louis alluded; and informed him that his mind might be at rest on any such matter.
”I do believe you'd be glad to see me well; wouldn't you, now?”
The doctor a.s.sured him that such was in very truth the case.
”Well, now, I'll tell you what: I've been thinking about it a great deal to-day; indeed, I have, and I want to do what's right. Mightn't I have a little drop more of that stuff, just in a cup of coffee?”
The doctor poured him out a cup of coffee, and put about a teaspoonful of brandy in it. Sir Louis took it with a disconsolate face, not having been accustomed to such measures in the use of his favourite beverage.
”I do wish to do what's right--I do, indeed; only, you see, I'm so lonely. As to those fellows up in London, I don't think that one of them cares a straw about me.”
Dr Thorne was of the same way of thinking, and he said so. He could not but feel some sympathy with the unfortunate man as he thus spoke of his own lot. It was true that he had been thrown on the world without any one to take care of him.
”My dear friend, I will do the best I can in every way; I will, indeed. I do believe that your companions in town have been too ready to lead you astray. Drop them, and you may yet do well.”
”May I though, doctor? Well, I will drop them. There's Jenkins; he's the best of them; but even he is always wanting to make money of me.
Not but what I'm up to the best of them in that way.”
”You had better leave London, Sir Louis, and change your old mode of life. Go to Boxall Hill for a while; for two or three years or so; live with your mother there and take to farming.”
”What! farming?”
”Yes; that's what all country gentlemen do: take the land there into your own hand, and occupy your mind upon it.”
”Well, doctor, I will--upon one condition.”
Dr Thorne sat still and listened. He had no idea what the condition might be, but he was not prepared to promise acquiescence till he heard it.
”You know what I told you once before,” said the baronet.
”I don't remember at this moment.”
”About my getting married, you know.”
The doctor's brow grew black, and promised no help to the poor wretch. Bad in every way, wretched, selfish, sensual, unfeeling, purse-proud, ignorant as Sir Louis Scatcherd was, still, there was left to him the power of feeling something like sincere love. It may be presumed that he did love Mary Thorne, and that he was at the time earnest in declaring, that if she could be given to him, he would endeavour to live according to her uncle's counsel. It was only a trifle he asked; but, alas! that trifle could not be vouchsafed.
”I should much approve of your getting married, but I do not know how I can help you.”
”Of course, I mean to Miss Mary: I do love her; I really do, Dr Thorne.”
”It is quite impossible, Sir Louis; quite. You do my niece much honour; but I am able to answer for her, positively, that such a proposition is quite out of the question.”