CHAPTER XXVIII
The Doctor Hears Something to His Advantage
Sir Louis Scatcherd had told his mother that he was rather out ofsorts, and when he reached Boxall Hill it certainly did not appearthat he had given any exaggerated statement of his own maladies. Hecertainly was a good deal out of sorts. He had had more than oneattack of delirium tremens since his father's death, and had almostbeen at death's door.
Nothing had been said about this by Dr Thorne at Boxall Hill; buthe was by no means ignorant of his ward's state. Twice he had goneup to London to visit him; twice he had begged him to go down intothe country and place himself under his mother's care. On the lastoccasion, the doctor had threatened him with all manner of pains andpenalties: with pains, as to his speedy departure from this world andall its joys; and with penalties, in the shape of poverty if thatdeparture should by any chance be retarded. But these threats hadat the moment been in vain, and the doctor had compromised mattersby inducing Sir Louis to promise that he would go to Brighton. Thebaronet, however, who was at length frightened by some renewedattack, gave up his Brighton scheme, and, without any notice to thedoctor, hurried down to Boxall Hill.
Mary did not see him on the first day of his coming, but the doctordid. He received such intimation of the visit as enabled him to be atthe house soon after the young man's arrival; and, knowing that hisassistance might be necessary, he rode over to Boxall Hill. It wasa dreadful task to him, this of making the same fruitless endeavourfor the son that he had made for the father, and in the same house.But he was bound by every consideration to perform the task. He hadpromised the father that he would do for the son all that was in hispower; and he had, moreover, the consciousness, that should Sir Louissucceed in destroying himself, the next heir to all the property washis own niece, Mary Thorne.
He found Sir Louis in a low, wretched, miserable state. Though hewas a drunkard as his father was, he was not at all such a drunkardas was his father. The physical capacities of the men were verydifferent. The daily amount of alcohol which the father had consumedwould have burnt up the son in a week; whereas, though the sonwas continually tipsy, what he swallowed would hardly have had aninjurious effect upon the father.
"You are all wrong, quite wrong," said Sir Louis, petulantly; "itisn't that at all. I have taken nothing this week past--literallynothing. I think it's the liver."
Dr Thorne wanted no one to tell him what was the matter with hisward. It was his liver; his liver, and his head, and his stomach, andhis heart. Every organ in his body had been destroyed, or was in thecourse of destruction. His father had killed himself with brandy;the son, more elevated in his tastes, was doing the same thing withcuracoa, maraschino, and cherry-bounce.
"Sir Louis," said the doctor--he was obliged to be much morepunctilious with him than he had been with the contractor--"thematter is in your own hands entirely: if you cannot keep your lipsfrom that accursed poison, you have nothing in this world to lookforward to; nothing, nothing!"
Mary proposed to return with her uncle to Greshamsbury, and he wasat first well inclined that she should do so. But this idea wasoverruled, partly in compliance with Lady Scatcherd's entreaties, andpartly because it would have seemed as though they had both thoughtthe presence of its owner had made the house an unfit habitation fordecent people. The doctor therefore returned, leaving Mary there; andLady Scatcherd busied herself between her two guests.
On the next day Sir Louis was able to come down to a late dinner, andMary was introduced to him. He had dressed himself in his best array;and as he had--at any rate for the present moment--been frightenedout of his libations, he was prepared to make himself as agreeable aspossible. His mother waited on him almost as a slave might have done;but she seemed to do so with the fear of a slave rather than the loveof a mother. She was fidgety in her attentions, and worried him byendeavouring to make her evening sitting-room agreeable.
But Sir Louis, though he was not very sweetly behaved under thesemanipulations from his mother's hands, was quite complaisant toMiss Thorne; nay, after the expiration of a week he was almost morethan complaisant. He piqued himself on his gallantry, and now foundthat, in the otherwise dull seclusion of Boxall Hill, he had a goodopportunity of exercising it. To do him justice it must be admittedthat he would not have been incapable of a decent career had hestumbled upon some girl who could have loved him before he stumbledupon his maraschino bottle. Such might have been the case with manya lost rake. The things that are bad are accepted because the thingsthat are good do not come easily in his way. How many a miserablefather reviles with bitterness of spirit the low tastes of his son,who has done nothing to provide his child with higher pleasures!
Sir Louis--partly in the hopes of Mary's smiles, and partlyfrightened by the doctor's threats--did, for a while, keep himselfwithin decent bounds. He did not usually appear before Mary's eyestill three or four in the afternoon but when he did come forth, hecame forth sober and resolute to please. His mother was delighted,and was not slow to sing his praises; and even the doctor, who nowvisited Boxall Hill more frequently than ever, began to have somehopes.
One constant subject, I must not say of conversation, on the partof Lady Scatcherd, but rather of declamation, had hitherto been thebeauty and manly attributes of Frank Gresham. She had hardly ceasedto talk to Mary of the infinite good qualities of the young squire,and especially of his prowess in the matter of Mr Moffat. Mary hadlistened to all this eloquence, not perhaps with inattention, butwithout much reply. She had not been exactly sorry to hear Franktalked about; indeed, had she been so minded, she could herself havesaid something on the same subject; but she did not wish to take LadyScatcherd altogether into her confidence, and she had been unable tosay much about Frank Gresham without doing so. Lady Scatcherd had,therefore, gradually conceived the idea that her darling was not afavourite with her guest.
Now, therefore, she changed the subject; and, as her own son wasbehaving with such unexampled propriety, she dropped Frank andconfined her eulogies to Louis. He had been a little wild, sheadmitted; young men so often were so; but she hoped that it was nowover.
"He does still take a little drop of those French drinks in themorning," said Lady Scatcherd, in her confidence; for she was toohonest to be false, even in her own cause. "He does do that, I know:but that's nothing, my dear, to swilling all day; and everythingcan't be done at once, can it, Miss Thorne?"
On this subject Mary found her tongue loosened. She could not talkabout Frank Gresham, but she could speak with hope to the mother ofher only son. She could say that Sir Louis was still very young; thatthere was reason to trust that he might now reform; that his presentconduct was apparently good; and that he appeared capable of betterthings. So much she did say; and the mother took her sympathy formore than it was worth.
On this matter, and on this matter perhaps alone, Sir Louis and LadyScatcherd were in accord. There was much to recommend Mary to thebaronet; not only did he see her to be beautiful, and perceive herto be attractive and ladylike; but she was also the niece of the manwho, for the present, held the purse-strings of his wealth. Mary, itis true, had no fortune. But Sir Louis knew that she was acknowledgedto be a lady; and he was ambitious that his "lady" should be a lady.There was also much to recommend Mary to the mother, to any mother;and thus it came to pass, that Miss Thorne had no obstacle betweenher and the dignity of being Lady Scatcherd the second;--no obstaclewhatever, if only she could bring herself to wish it.
It was some time--two or three weeks, perhaps--before Mary's mind wasfirst opened to this new brilliancy in her prospects. Sir Louis atfirst was rather afraid of her, and did not declare his admirationin any very determined terms. He certainly paid her many complimentswhich, from any one else, she would have regarded as abominable.But she did not expect great things from the baronet's taste: sheconcluded that he was only doing what he thought a gentleman shoulddo; and she was willing to forgive much for Lady Scatcherd's sake.
His first attempts were, perhaps, more ludicrous
than passionate. Hewas still too much an invalid to take walks, and Mary was thereforesaved from his company in her rambles; but he had a horse of his ownat Boxall Hill, and had been advised to ride by the doctor. Maryalso rode--on a donkey only, it is true--but Sir Louis found himselfbound in gallantry to accompany her. Mary's steed had answered everyexpectation, and proved himself very quiet; so quiet, that withoutthe admonition of a cudgel behind him, he could hardly be persuadedinto the demurest trot. Now, as Sir Louis's horse was of a verydifferent mettle, he found it rather difficult not to step fasterthan his inamorata; and, let him struggle as he would, was generallyso far ahead as to be debarred the delights of conversation.
When for the second time he proposed to accompany her, Mary did whatshe could to hinder it. She saw that he had been rather ashamed ofthe manner in which his companion was mounted, and she herself wouldhave enjoyed her ride much more without him. He was an invalid,however; it was necessary to make much of him, and Mary did notabsolutely refuse his offer.
"Lady Scatcherd," said he, as they were standing at the door previousto mounting--he always called his mother Lady Scatcherd--"why don'tyou have a horse for Miss Thorne? This donkey is--is--really is, sovery--very--can't go at all, you know?"
Lady Scatcherd began to declare that she would willingly have got apony if Mary would have let her do so.
"Oh, no, Lady Scatcherd; not on any account. I do like the donkey somuch--I do indeed."
"But he won't go," said Sir Louis. "And for a person who rides likeyou, Miss Thorne--such a horsewoman you know--why, you know, LadyScatcherd, it's positively ridiculous; d---- absurd, you know."
And then, with an angry look at his mother, he mounted his horse, andwas soon leading the way down the avenue.
"Miss Thorne," said he, pulling himself up at the gate, "if I hadknown that I was to be so extremely happy as to have found you here,I would have brought you down the most beautiful creature, an Arab.She belongs to my friend Jenkins; but I wouldn't have stood at anyprice in getting her for you. By Jove! if you were on that mare, I'dback you, for style and appearance, against anything in Hyde Park."
The offer of this sporting wager, which naturally would have beenvery gratifying to Mary, was lost upon her, for Sir Louis had againunwittingly got on in advance, but he stopped himself in time to hearMary again declare her passion was a donkey.
"If you could only see Jenkins's little mare, Miss Thorne! Only sayone word, and she shall be down here before the week's end. Priceshall be no obstacle--none whatever. By Jove, what a pair you wouldbe!"
This generous offer was repeated four or five times; but on eachoccasion Mary only half heard what was said, and on each occasion thebaronet was far too much in advance to hear Mary's reply. At last herecollected that he wanted to call on one of the tenants, and beggedhis companion to allow him to ride on.
"If you at all dislike being left alone, you know--"
"Oh dear no, not at all, Sir Louis. I am quite used to it."
"Because I don't care about it, you know; only I can't make thishorse walk the same pace as that brute."
"You mustn't abuse my pet, Sir Louis."
"It's a d---- shame on my mother's part;" said Sir Louis, who, evenwhen in his best behaviour, could not quite give up his ordinary modeof conversation. "When she was fortunate enough to get such a girl asyou to come and stay with her, she ought to have had something properfor her to ride upon but I'll look to it as soon as I am a littlestronger, you see if I don't;" and, so saying, Sir Louis trotted off,leaving Mary in peace with her donkey.
Sir Louis had now been living cleanly and forswearing sack for whatwas to him a very long period, and his health felt the good effectsof it. No one rejoiced at this more cordially than did the doctor. Torejoice at it was with him a point of conscience. He could not helptelling himself now and again that, circumstanced as he was, he wasmost specially bound to take joy in any sign of reformation whichthe baronet might show. Not to do so would be almost tantamountto wishing that he might die in order that Mary might inherit hiswealth; and, therefore, the doctor did with all his energy devotehimself to the difficult task of hoping and striving that Sir Louismight yet live to enjoy what was his own. But the task was altogethera difficult one, for as Sir Louis became stronger in health, soalso did he become more exorbitant in his demands on the doctor'spatience, and more repugnant to the doctor's tastes.
In his worst fits of disreputable living he was ashamed to apply tohis guardian for money; and in his worst fits of illness he was,through fear, somewhat patient under his doctor's hands; but just atpresent he had nothing of which to be ashamed, and was not at allpatient.
"Doctor,"--said he, one day, at Boxall Hill--"how about thoseGreshamsbury title-deeds?"
"Oh, that will all be properly settled between my lawyer and yourown."
"Oh--ah--yes; no doubt the lawyers will settle it: settle it with afine bill of costs, of course. But, as Finnie says,"--Finnie was SirLouis's legal adviser--"I have got a tremendously large interest atstake in this matter; eighty thousand pounds is no joke. It ain'teverybody that can shell out eighty thousand pounds when they'rewanted; and I should like to know how the thing's going on. I've aright to ask, you know; eh, doctor?"
"The title-deeds of a large portion of the Greshamsbury estate willbe placed with the mortgage-deeds before the end of next month."
"Oh, that's all right. I choose to know about these things; forthough my father did make such a con-found-ed will, that's no reasonI shouldn't know how things are going."
"You shall know everything that I know, Sir Louis."
"And now, doctor, what are we to do about money?"
"About money?"
"Yes; money, rhino, ready! 'put money in your purse and cut a dash;'eh, doctor? Not that I want to cut a dash. No, I'm going on the quietline altogether now: I've done with all that sort of thing."
"I'm heartily glad of it; heartily," said the doctor.
"Yes, I'm not going to make way for my far-away cousin yet; not if Iknow it, at least. I shall soon be all right now, doctor; shan't I?"
"'All right' is a long word, Sir Louis. But I do hope you will be allright in time, if you will live with decent prudence. You shouldn'ttake that filth in the morning though."
"Filth in the morning! That's my mother, I suppose! That's herladyship! She's been talking, has she? Don't you believe her, doctor.There's not a young man in Barsetshire is going more regular, allright within the posts, than I am."
The doctor was obliged to acknowledge that there did seem to be someimprovement.
"And now, doctor, how about money? Eh?"
Doctor Thorne, like other guardians similarly circumstanced, began toexplain that Sir Louis had already had a good deal of money, and hadbegun also to promise that more should be forthcoming in the eventof good behaviour, when he was somewhat suddenly interrupted by SirLouis.
"Well, now; I'll tell you what, doctor; I've got a bit of news foryou; something that I think will astonish you."
The doctor opened his eyes, and tried to look as though ready to besurprised.
"Something that will really make you look about; and something, too,that will be very much to the hearer's advantage,--as the newspaperadvertisements say."
"Something to my advantage?" said the doctor.
"Well, I hope you'll think so. Doctor, what would you think now of mygetting married?"
"I should be delighted to hear of it--more delighted than I canexpress; that is, of course, if you were to marry well. It was yourfather's most eager wish that you should marry early."
"That's partly my reason," said the young hypocrite. "But then, if Imarry I must have an income fit to live on eh, doctor?"
The doctor had some fear that his interesting protegee was desirousof a wife for the sake of the income, instead of desiring the incomefor the sake of the wife. But let the cause be what it would,marriage would probably be good for him; and he had no hesitation,therefore, in telling him, that if he married well, he should be p
utin possession of sufficient income to maintain the new Lady Scatcherdin a manner becoming her dignity.
"As to marrying well," said Sir Louis, "you, I take it, will be thelast man, doctor, to quarrel with my choice."
"Shall I?" said the doctor, smiling.
"Well, you won't disapprove, I guess, as the Yankee says. What wouldyou think of Miss Mary Thorne?"
It must be said in Sir Louis's favour that he had probably no ideawhatever of the estimation in which such young ladies as Mary Thorneare held by those who are nearest and dearest to them. He had no sortof conception that she was regarded by her uncle as an inestimabletreasure, almost too precious to be rendered up to the arms of anyman; and infinitely beyond any price in silver and gold, baronets'incomes of eight or ten thousand a year, and such coins usuallycurrent in the world's markets. He was a rich man and a baronet,and Mary was an unmarried girl without a portion. In Sir Louis'sestimation he was offering everything, and asking for nothing. Hecertainly had some idea that girls were apt to be coy, and requireda little wooing in the shape of presents, civil speeches--perhapskisses also. The civil speeches he had, he thought, done, andimagined that they had been well received. The other things were tofollow; an Arab pony, for instance,--and the kisses probably with it;and then all these difficulties would be smoothed.
But he did not for a moment conceive that there would be anydifficulty with the uncle. How should there be? Was he not a baronetwith ten thousand a year coming to him? Had he not everything whichfathers want for portionless daughters, and uncles for dependantnieces? Might he not well inform the doctor that he had something totell him for his advantage?
And yet, to tell the truth, the doctor did not seem to be overjoyedwhen the announcement was first made to him. He was by no meansoverjoyed. On the contrary, even Sir Louis could perceive hisguardian's surprise was altogether unmixed with delight.
What a question was this that was asked him! What would he think ofa marriage between Mary Thorne--his Mary and Sir Louis Scatcherd?Between the alpha of the whole alphabet, and him whom he could notbut regard as the omega! Think of it! Why he would think of it asthough a lamb and a wolf were to stand at the altar together. Had SirLouis been a Hottentot, or an Esquimaux, the proposal could not haveastonished him more. The two persons were so totally of a differentclass, that the idea of the one falling in love with the other hadnever occurred to him. "What would you think of Miss Mary Thorne?"Sir Louis had asked; and the doctor, instead of answering himwith ready and pleased alacrity, stood silent, thunderstruck withamazement.
"Well, wouldn't she be a good wife?" said Sir Louis, rather in a toneof disgust at the evident disapproval shown at his choice. "I thoughtyou'd have been so delighted."
"Mary Thorne!" ejaculated the doctor at last. "Have you spoken to myniece about this, Sir Louis?"
"Well, I have and yet I haven't; I haven't, and yet in a manner Ihave."
"I don't understand you," said the doctor.
"Why, you see, I haven't exactly popped to her yet; but I have beendoing the civil; and if she's up to snuff, as I take her to be, sheknows very well what I'm after by this time."
Up to snuff! Mary Thorne, his Mary Thorne, up to snuff! To snuff tooof such a very disagreeable description!
"I think, Sir Louis, that you are in mistake about this. I think youwill find that Mary will not be disposed to avail herself of thegreat advantages--for great they undoubtedly are--which you are ableto offer to your intended wife. If you will take my advice, you willgive up thinking of Mary. She would not suit you."
"Not suit me! Oh, but I think she just would. She's got no money, youmean?"
"No, I did not mean that. It will not signify to you whether yourwife has money or not. You need not look for money. But you shouldthink of some one more nearly of your own temperament. I am quitesure that my niece would refuse you."
These last words the doctor uttered with much emphasis. His intentionwas to make the baronet understand that the matter was quitehopeless, and to induce him if possible to drop it on the spot. Buthe did not know Sir Louis; he ranked him too low in the scale ofhuman beings, and gave him no credit for any strength of character.Sir Louis in his way did love Mary Thorne; and could not bringhimself to believe that Mary did not, or at any rate, would not soonreturn his passion. He was, moreover, sufficiently obstinate, firm weought perhaps to say,--for his pursuit in this case was certainly notan evil one,--and he at once made up his mind to succeed in spite ofthe uncle.
"If she consents, however, you will do so too?" asked he.
"It is impossible she should consent," said the doctor.
"Impossible! I don't see anything at all impossible. But if shedoes?"
"But she won't."
"Very well,--that's to be seen. But just tell me this, if she does,will you consent?"
"The stars would fall first. It's all nonsense. Give it up, my dearfriend; believe me you are only preparing unhappiness for yourself;"and the doctor put his hand kindly on the young man's arm. "She willnot, cannot accept such an offer."
"Will not! cannot!" said the baronet, thinking over all the reasonswhich in his estimation could possibly be inducing the doctor to beso hostile to his views, and shaking the hand off his arm. "Will not!cannot! But come, doctor, answer my question fairly. If she'll haveme for better or worse, you won't say aught against it; will you?"
"But she won't have you; why should you give her and yourself thepain of a refusal?"
"Oh, as for that, I must stand my chances like another. And as forher, why d----, doctor, you wouldn't have me believe that any younglady thinks it so very dreadful to have a baronet with ten thousandpounds a year at her feet, specially when that same baronet ain'tvery old, nor yet particularly ugly. I ain't so green as that,doctor."
"I suppose she must go through it, then," said the doctor, musing.
"But, Dr Thorne, I did look for a kinder answer from you, consideringall that you so often say about your great friendship with my father.I did think you'd at any rate answer me when I asked you a question."
But the doctor did not want to answer that special question. Couldit be possible that Mary should wish to marry this odious man, couldsuch a state of things be imagined to be the case, he would notrefuse his consent, infinitely as he would be disgusted by herchoice. But he would not give Sir Louis any excuse for telling Marythat her uncle approved of so odious a match.
"I cannot say that in any case I should approve of such a marriage,Sir Louis. I cannot bring myself to say so; for I know it would makeyou both miserable. But on that matter my niece will choose whollyfor herself."
"And about the money, doctor?"
"If you marry a decent woman you shall not want the means ofsupporting her decently," and so saying the doctor walked away,leaving Sir Louis to his meditations.