CHAPTER II
THE TIDE COMES BACK
"Give her everything she wants!" How often in the days that followed werethose words in Avery's mind! She strove to fulfil them to the uttermost,but Jeanie seemed to want so little. The only trouble in her existencejust then was her holiday-task, and that she steadily refused torelinquish unless her father gave her leave.
A few days after Maxwell Wyndham's departure there came an agonizedletter from Mrs. Lorimer. Olive had just developed scarlet fever, and asthey could not afford a nurse she was nursing her herself. She entreatedAvery to send her daily news of Jeanie and to telegraph at once shouldshe become worse. She added in a pathetic postscript that her husbandfound it difficult to believe that Jeanie could be as ill as the greatdoctor had represented, and she feared he was a little vexed that MaxwellWyndham's opinion had been obtained.
It was exactly what Avery had expected of him. She wrote a soothingletter to Mrs. Lorimer, promising to keep her informed of Jeanie'scondition, promising to lavish every care upon the child, and beggingher to persuade Mr. Lorimer to remit the task which had become soheavy a burden.
The reply to this did not come at once, and Avery had repeated therequest twice very urgently and was contemplating addressing a protestto the Reverend Stephen in person when another agitated epistle arrivedfrom Mrs. Lorimer. Her husband had decided to run down to them for anight and judge of Jeanie's state for himself.
Avery received the news with dismay which, however, she was careful toconceal. Jeanie heard of the impending visit with as much perturbation asher tranquil nature would allow, and during the day that intervenedbefore his arrival gave herself more sedulously than ever to her task.She had an unhappy premonition that he would desire to examine her uponwhat she had read, and she was guiltily aware that her memory had notretained very much of it.
So for the whole of one day she strove to study, till she was socompletely tired out that Avery actually took the book from her at lastand declared that she should not worry herself any more about it. Jeanieyielded submissively, but a wakeful night followed, and in the morningshe looked so wan that Avery wanted to keep her in bed.
On this point, however, Jeanie was less docile than usual. "He will thinkI am shamming," she protested. "He never likes us to lie in bed unless weare really ill."
So, since she was evidently anxious to get up, Avery permitted it, thoughshe marked her obvious languor with a sinking heart.
The Vicar arrived at about noon, and Avery saw at a glance that he was inno kindly mood.
"Dear me, what is all this fuss?" he said to Jeanie. "You look to meconsiderably rosier than I have seen you for a long time."
Jeanie was indeed flushed with nervous excitement, and Avery thought shehad never seen her eyes so unnaturally bright. She endured her father'shand under her chin with evident discomfort, and the Vicar's face wassomewhat severe when he finally released her.
"I am afraid you are getting a little fanciful, my child," he saidgravely. "I know that our kind friend, Lady Evesham--" his eyes twinkledironically and seemed to slip inwards--"has always been inclined toindulge your whims. Now how do you occupy your time?"
"I read," faltered Jeanie.
"And sew, I presume," said the Vicar, who prided himself upon bringing uphis daughter to be useful.
"A little," said Jeanie.
He opened his eyes upon her again with that suggestion of severity in hisregard which Jeanie so plainly dreaded. "But you have done none since youhave been here? Jeanie, my child, I detect in you the seeds of idleness.If your time were more fully occupied, you would find your general healthwould considerably improve. Now, do you rise early and go for a bathebefore breakfast?"
"No," said Jeanie, with a little shiver.
He shook his head at her. "Then let us institute the habit at once! Icannot have you becoming slack just because you are away from home. Ifthis indolence continue, I shall be compelled to have you back under myown eye. I clearly see that the self-indulgent life you lead here ishaving disastrous results. You will bathe with me to-morrow atseven-thirty, after which we will have half an hour of physical exercise.Then after a wholesome breakfast you will feel renewed and ready for theday's work."
Avery, when this programme was laid before her, looked at him inincredulous amazement.
"But surely Dr. Wyndham explained to you the serious condition she isin!" she exclaimed.
Mr. Lorimer smiled his own superior smile. "He explained his point ofview most thoroughly, my dear Lady Evesham." He always pronounced hername and title with satirical emphasis. "But that--very curious as it mayappear to you--does not prevent my holding a very strong opinion of myown. And it chances to be in direct opposition to that expressed by Dr.Maxwell Wyndham. I know my own child,--her faults and her tendencies. Shehas been allowed to become extremely lax with regard to her daily duties,and this laxness is in my opinion the root of the evil. I shall thereforetake my own measures to correct it, and if they are in any way resistedor neglected I shall at once remove the child from your care. I trust Ihave made myself quite explicit."
He had. But Avery's indignation could not be contained.
"You will kill her if you persist!" she said. "Even as it is--even as itis--her days are numbered."
"The days of all of us are numbered," said the Reverend Stephen. "And itbehoves us to make the very utmost of each one of them. I cannot allowmy child's character to be ruined on account of a physical weaknesswhich a little judicious discipline will speedily overcome. The spiritmust triumph over the flesh, Lady Evesham. A hard rule for worldlings, Igrant you, but one which must be observed by all who would enter theKingdom of Heaven."
Argument was futile. Avery realized it at the outset. He would have hisway, whatever the cost, and no warning or entreaty would move him. Forthe rest of that day she had to stand by in impotent anguish, and watchJeanie's martyrdom. During the afternoon he sat alone with her,conducting the intellectual examination which Jeanie had so dreaded,reprimanding, criticizing, scoffing at her ignorance. In the evening hetook her for what he called a stroll upon which Avery was not allowed toaccompany them. Mr. Lorimer playfully remarking that he wished to givehis young daughter the benefit of his individual attention during theperiod of his brief sojourn with them.
They returned from their expedition at eight. Avery was walking to andfro by the gate in a ferment of anxiety. They came by the cliff-road,and she went eagerly to meet them.
Jeanie was hanging on her father's arm with a face of deathly whiteness,and looked on the verge of collapse.
The Reverend Stephen was serenely satisfied with himself, laughed gentlyat his child's dragging progress, and assured Avery that a littlewholesome fatigue was a good thing at the end of the day.
Jeanie said nothing. She seemed to be speechless with exhaustion, almostincapable of standing alone.
Mr. Lorimer recommended a cold bath, a brisk rub-down, and supper.
"After which," he said impressively, "I shall hope to conduct a fewprayers before we retire to rest."
"That will be impossible, I am afraid," Avery rejoined. "Jeanie isovertired and must go at once to bed."
She spoke with quiet decision, but inwardly she was quivering with fierceanger. She longed passionately to have the child to herself, to comfortand care for her and ease away the troubles of the day.
But Mr. Lorimer at once asserted his authority. "Jeanie will certainlyjoin us at supper," he said. "Run along, my child, and prepare for themeal at once!"
Jeanie went up the stairs like an old woman, stumbling at every step.
Avery followed her, chafing but impotent.
At the top of the stairs Jeanie began to cough. She turned into her ownroom with blind, staggering movements and sank down beside the bed.
The coughing was spasmodic and convulsive. It shook her whole frame. Inthe end there came a dreadful tearing sound, and she caught herhandkerchief to her mouth.
Avery knelt beside her, supporting her. She saw the white
linen turnsuddenly scarlet, and she called sharply to Mr. Lorimer to come to them.
He came, and between them they got her on to the bed.
"This is most unfortunate," said Mr. Lorimer. "Pray how did it happen?"
And then Avery's pent fury blazed suddenly forth upon him. "It is yourdoing!" she said. "You--and you alone--are responsible for this!"
He looked at her malignantly. "Pshaw, my dear Lady Evesham! You arehysterical!" he said.
Avery was bending over the bed. "Go!" she said, without looking up. "Goquickly, and fetch a doctor!"
And, very curiously, Mr. Lorimer obeyed her.