Elster's Folly by Mrs. Henry Wood (buy e reader .TXT) π
Morning, And The Little World Below Began To Awaken Into Life--The Life
Of Another Day Of Sanguine Pleasure Or Of Fretting Care.
Not On Many Fairer Scenes Did Those Sunbeams Shed Their Radiance Than On
One Existing In The Heart Of England; But Almost Any Landscape Will Look
Beautiful In The Early Light Of A Summer's Morning. The County, One Of
The Midlands, Was Justly Celebrated For Its Scenery; Its Rich Woods And
Smiling Plains, Its River And Gentler Streams. The Harvest Was Nearly
Gathered In--It Had Been A Late Season--But A Few Fields Of Golden Grain,
In Process Of Reaping, Gave Their Warm Tints To The Landscape. In No Part
Of The Country Had The Beauties Of Nature Been Bestowed More Lavishly
Than On This, The Village Of Calne, Situated About Seven Miles From The
County Town.
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- Author: Mrs. Henry Wood
Read book online Β«Elster's Folly by Mrs. Henry Wood (buy e reader .TXT) πΒ». Author - Mrs. Henry Wood
To Her Dressing-Room.
Presently Val Came In, All Traces Of Emotion Removed From His Features.
Lady Hartledon Had Dismissed Her Maid, And Stood Leaning Against The Arm
Of The Sofa, Indulging In Bitter Rumination.
"Silly Children!" Cried He; "It's Hard Work To Manage Them. And Edward
Has Lost His Pow--"
He Broke Off; Stopped By The Look Of Angry Reproach From His Wife, Cast
On Him For The First Time In Their Married Life. He Took Her Hand And
Bent Down To Her: Fervent Love, If Ever She Read It, In His Eyes And
Tones.
"Forgive Me, Anne; You Are Feeling This."
"Why Do You Throw These Slights On My Children? Why Are You Not More
Just?"
"I Do Not Intend To Slight Our Children, Anne, Heaven Knows. But I--I
Cannot Punish Edward."
"Why Did You Ever Make Me Your Wife?" Sighed Lady Hartledon, Drawing Her
Hand Away.
His Poor Assumption Of Unconcern Was Leaving Him Quickly; His Face Was
Changing To One Of Bitter Sorrow.
"When I Married You," She Resumed, "I Had Reason To Hope That Should
Children Be Born To Us, You Would Love Them Equally With Your First;
I Had A Right To Hope It. What Have I Done That--"
"Stay, Anne! I Can Bear Anything Better Than Reproach From You."
"What Have I And My Children Done To You, I Was About To Ask, That You
Take This Aversion To Them? Lavishing All Your Love On The Others And
Upon Them Only Injustice?"
Val Bent Down, Agitation In His Face And Voice.
"Hush, Anne! You Don't Know. The Danger Is That I Should Love Your
Children Better, Far Better Than Maude's. It Might Be So If I Did Not
Guard Against It."
"I Cannot Understand You," She Exclaimed.
"Unfortunately, I Understand Myself Only Too Well. I Have A Heavy Burden
To Bear; Do Not You--My Best And Dearest--Increase It."
She Looked At Him Keenly; Laid Her Hands Upon Him, Tears Gathering In Her
Eyes. "Tell Me What The Burden Is; Tell Me, Val! Let Me Share It."
But Val Drew In Again At Once, Alarmed At The Request: And Contradicted
Himself In The Most Absurd Manner.
"There's Nothing To Share, Anne; Nothing To Tell."
Certainly This Change Was Not Propitiatory. Lady Hartledon, Chilled And
Mortified, Disdained To Pursue The Theme. Drawing Herself Up, She Turned
To Go Down To Dinner, Remarking That He Might At Least Treat The Children
With More _Apparent_ Justice.
"I Am Just; At Least, I Wish To Be Just," He Broke Forth In Impassioned
Tones. "But I Cannot Be Severe With Edward And Maude."
Another Powder Was Procured, And, Amidst Much Fighting And Resistance,
Was Administered. Lady Hartledon Was In The Boy's Room The First Thing
In The Morning. One Grand Quality In Her Was, That She Never Visited
Her Vexation On The Children; And Edward, In Spite Of His Unamiable
Behaviour, Did At Heart Love Her, Whilst He Despised His Grandmother; One
Of His Sources Of Amusement Being To Take Off That Estimable Old Lady's
Peculiarities Behind Her Back, And Send The Servants Into Convulsions.
"You Look Very Hot, Edward," Exclaimed Lady Hartledon, As She Kissed Him.
"How Do You Feel?"
"My Throat's Sore, Mamma, And My Legs Could Not Find A Cold Place All
Night. Feel My Hand."
It Was A Child's Answer, Sufficiently Expressive. An Anxious Look Rose To
Her Countenance.
"Are You Sure Your Throat Is Sore?"
"It's Very Sore. I Am So Thirsty."
Lady Hartledon Gave Him Some Weak Tea, And Sent For Mr. Ade Will Be Back--You'll See. An' When He Comes We'll Be
Squarin' Things With Him--An' Don't You Forget It!"
* * * * *
It Was After Lawler Had Been Occupying The Cabin For A Month That
Metcalf Made His Second Visit. He Rode Down The Slope Of The Valley On A
Horse He Had Hired At Willets, And Came Upon Lawler, Who Was Standing At
The Corral Gates, Looking Across The Enclosure At The Workmen Who Were
Bustling About The Ranchhouse.
Metcalf Regarded Lawler Critically Before He Dismounted; And Then He
Came Forward, Shook Lawler's Hand And Again Looked Him Over.
"A Little Thin And Peaked; But Otherwise All Right, Eh?" He Smiled.
"It's Hard To Kill You Denizens Of The Sagebrush."
He Followed Lawler Into The Shade Of The Cabin, Remarked To Mrs. Lawler
That Her Son Would Need Someone To Guard Him--If He Persisted In Meeting
Outlaws Of The Antrim Type Single-Handed; And Then Turned To
Lawler--After Mrs. Lawler Had Gone Inside--And Said Lowly:
"Lord, Man! You've Got This State Raving Over You! Your Fight Against
The Ring Is Talked About In Every Corner Of The Country. And That Scrap
With Antrim, Selden, And Krell In The Old Dickman Cabin Will Go Down In
History--It Will Be A Classic! What Made You Rush In On Antrim That
Way--Giving Him The First Shot?"
Lawler Smiled Faintly. "Shucks, Metcalf, There Was Nothing To That.
Shorty Told Me What Had Happened, And As I Recollect, Now, I Was Pretty
Much Excited."
"Excited, Eh?" Said Metcalf, Incredulously; "I Don't Believe It. What
About Your Going In To Warden's Office, Offering To Give Him The First
Shot? Were You Excited Then?"
Lawler Reddened, And Metcalf Laughed Triumphantly.
"Lawler," He Said; "You're Too Damned Modest--But Modesty Becomes You. I
Believe You Know It. Anyway, This State Is Raving Over You. You're Going
To Be The Next Governor. You've Got To Run! This State Needs A Man Like
You--It _Needs_ You! You Know It. Everybody Knows It--And Everybody
Wants You. That Is, Everybody Except Haughton, Hatfield, Warden--And
That Bunch--Including The Railroad Company. Why, Look Here, Lawler!" He
Went On, When Lawler Did Not Answer; "The Fight You Made Last Fall
Against The Railroad Company Was Made, With Variations, By All The
Courageous Cattlemen In The State. If A Strong Man Isn't Elected This
Fall The Same Fight Will Have To Be Made Again. Haughton Is So Rotten
That People Are Beginning To Hold Their Noses!
"The People Of This State Trust You, Lawler--They Swear By You. You've
Got To Run--There's No Way Out Of It!" He Looked Keenly At Lawler. "Man,
Do You Know What Mcgregor Told Me The Day Before He Left The Capital To
Come Down Here And Look You Over, To See How Badly You Were Hurt? He
Said: 'Metcalf, If Lawler Dies We Lose The Governorship Next Fall. He Is
The Only Man Who Can Beat Haughton!'"
"Metcalf," Smiled Lawler; "I'll Tell You A Secret--Your Argument Has Had
No Effect Upon Me. I Decided This Thing As Far Back As The Day Following
The Last Election. I Am Going To Run."
"Then We've Got Haughton Licked!" Declared Metcalf, Enthusiastically.
Metcalf Stayed At The Circle L Throughout The Day, And In The Evening
Lawler Rode With Him To Willets, Where He Saw Him Aboard The West-Bound
Train.
"I'm Telling You Something, Lawler," Grinned The Newspaperman As He
Gripped Lawler's Hand Just Before The Train Started. "Mcgregor Came To
Me Yesterday. He Told Me He Intended To Come To See You, But He Was
Afraid You'd Refuse To Run. He Asked Me If I Had Any Influence With You,
And I Told Him You'd Do Anything I Suggested. Now, Don't Get Excited,
Lawler," He Laughed As Lawler Looked Sharply At Him. "I've Proved It,
Haven't I? You've Agreed To Run! Lord, Man, I'd Hate To Be An Evil-Doer
And Have You Look At Me Like That!" He Laughed Again, Exultantly. "What
Was It You Said To Warden One Day, When Warden Refused To Keep That
Agreement You Made With Lefingwell? Oh, Don't Look At Me That Way--That
Conversation Has Been Printed All Over The State. I Saw To That. How Dice In You, Mr. Brook; And Were Edward My Own
Child, I Should Know How To Act. Do You Think It Would Be Dangerous To
Give Him This Prescription? You May Speak Confidentially."
"Not Dangerous; It Is A Prescription That Will Do Neither Harm Nor
Good. I Suspect Sir Alexander Could Not Detect The Nature Of The Illness,
And Wrote This Merely To Gain Time. It Is Not An Infrequent Custom To
Do So. In My Opinion, Not An Hour Should Be Lost In Giving Him A More
Efficacious Medicine; Early Treatment Is Everything In Scarlet-Fever."
Lady Hartledon Had Been Rapidly Making Up Her Mind. "Send In What You
Think Right To Be Taken, Immediately," She Said, "And Meet Sir Alexander
In Consultation Later On."
Scarlet-Fever It Proved To Be; Not A Mild Form Of It; And In A Very Few
Hours Lord Elster Was In Great Danger, The Throat Being Chiefly Affected.
The House Was In Commotion; The Dowager Worse Than Any One In It. A
Complication Of Fears Beset Her: First, Terror For Her Own Safety, And
Next, The Less Abject Dread That Death Might Remove _Her_ Grandchild. In
This Latter Fear She Partly Lost Her Personal Fears, So Far At Any Rate
As To Remain In The House; For It Seemed To Her That The Child Would
Inevitably Die If She Left It. Late In The Afternoon She Rushed Into The
Presence Of The Doctors, Who Had Just Been Holding A Second Consultation.
Sir Alexander Pepps Recommended Leeches To The Throat: Mr. Brook
Disapproved Of Them. "It Is The One Chance For His Life," Said Sir
Alexander.
"It Is Removing Nearly All Chance," Said Mr. Brook.
Sir Alexander Prevailed; And When They Came Forth It Was Understood That
Leeches Were To Be Applied. But Here Lady Hartledon Stepped In.
"I Dread Leeches To The Throat, Sir Alexander, If You Will Forgive Me For
Saying So. I Have Twice Seen Them Applied In Scarlet-Fever; And The
Patients--One A Young Lady, The Other A Child--In Both Cases Died."
"Madam, I Have Given My Opinion," Curtly Returned The Physician. "They
Are Necessary In Lord Elster's Case."
"Do You Approve Of Leeches?" Cried Lady Hartledon, Turning To Mr. Brook.
"Not Altogether," Was The Cautious Answer.
"Answer Me One Question, Mr. Brook," Said Lady Hartledon, In Her
Earnestness. "Would You Apply These Leeches Were You Treating The Case
Alone?"
"No, Madam, I Would Not."
Anne Appealed To Her Husband. When The Medical Men Differed, She Thought
The Decision Lay With Him.
"I'm Sure I Don't Know," Returned Val, Who Felt Perfectly Helpless To
Advise. "Can't You Decide, Anne? You Know More About Children And Illness
Than I Do."
"I Would Do So Without Hesitating A Moment Were It My Own Child," She
Replied. "I Would Not Allow Them To Be Put On."
"No, You Would Rather See Him Die," Interrupted The Dowager, Who
Overheard The Words, And Most Intemperately And Unjustifiably Answered
Them.
Anne Coloured With Shame For The Old Woman, But The Words Silenced Her:
How Was It Possible To Press Her Own Opinion After That? Sir Alexander
Had It All His Own Way, And The Leeches Were Applied On Either Side The
Throat, Mr. Brook Emphatically Asserting In Lady Hartledon's Private Ear
That He "Washed His Hands" Of The Measure. Before They Came Off The
Consequences Were Apparent; The Throat Was Swollen Outwardly, On Both
Sides; Within, It Appeared To Be Closing.
The Dowager, Rather Beside Herself On The Whole, Had Insisted On The
Leeches. Any One, Seeing Her Conduct Now, Might Have Thought The Invalid
Boy Was Really Dear To Her. Nothing Of The Sort. A Hazy Idea Had Been
Looming Through Her Mind For Years That Val Was Not Strong; She Had Been
Mistaking Mental Disease For Bodily Illness; And A Project To Have Full
Control Of Her Grandchild, Should He Come Into The Succession
Prematurely, Had Coloured Her Dreams. This Charming Prospect Would Be
Ignominiously Cut Short If The Boy Went First.
Sir Alexander Saw His Error. There Must Be Something Peculiar In Lord
Elster's Constitution, He Blandly Said; It Would Not Have Happened In
Another. Of Course, Anything That Turns Out A Mistake Always Is In The
Constitution--Never In The Treatment. Whether He Lived Or Died Now Was
Just The Turn Of A Straw: The Chances Were That He Would Die. All That
Could Be Done Now Was To Endeavour To Counteract The Mischief By External
Applications.
"I Wish You Would Let Me Try A Remedy," Said Lady Hartledon, Wistfully.
"A Compress Of Cold Water Round The Throat With Oilsilk Over It. I Have
Seen It Do So Much Good In Cases Of Inward Inflammation."
Mr. Brook Smiled: If Anything Would Do Good That Might, He Said, Speaking
As If He Had Little Faith In Remedies Now. Sir Alexander Intimated That
Her Ladyship Might Try It; Graciously Observing That It Would Do No Harm.
The Application Was Used, And The Evening Went On. The Child Had Fallen
Into A Sort Of Stupor, And Mr. Brook Came In Again Before He Had Been
Away An Hour, And Leaned Anxiously Over The Patient. He Lay With His Eyes
Half-Closed, And Breathed With Difficulty.
"I Think," He Exclaimed Softly, "There's The Slightest Shade Of
Improvement."
"In The Fever, Or The Throat?" Whispered Lady Hartledon, Who Had Not
Quitted The Boy's Bedside.
"In The Throat. If So, It Is Due To Your Remedy, Lady Hartledon."
"Is He In Danger?"
"In Great Danger. Still, I See A Gleam
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