Doctor Thorne by Anthony Trollope (epub e ink reader .TXT) 📕

that day he got up and ate his dinner in his bedroom. On the next morning he countermanded the horses, informing the doctor that he did so because he had a little bit of business to transact with Squire Gresham before he left the place! With some difficulty, the doctor made him understand that the squire would not see him on business; and it was at last decided, that Mr. Gazebee should be invited to call on him at the doctor’s house; and this Mr. Gazebee agreed to do, in order to prevent the annoyance of having the baronet up at Greshamsbury.

On this day, the evening before Mr. Gazebee’s visit, Sir Louis condescended to come down to dinner. He dined, however, tête-à-tête with the doctor. Mary was not there, nor was anything said as to her absence. Sir Louis Scatcherd never set eyes upon her again.

He bore himself very arrogantly on that evening, having resumed the airs and would-be dignity which he thought belonged to him as a man of rank and property. In his periods of low spirits, he was abject and humble enough; abject, and fearful of the lamentable destiny which at these moments he believed to be in store for him. But it was one of the peculiar symptoms of his state, that as he partially recovered his bodily health, the tone of his mind recovered itself also, and his fears for the time were relieved.

There was very little said between him and the doctor that evening. The doctor sat guarding the wine, and thinking when he should have his house to himself again. Sir Louis sat moody, every now and then uttering some impertinence as to the Greshams and the Greshamsbury property, and, at an early hour, allowed Joe to put him to bed.

The horses were ordered on the next day for three, and, at two, Mr. Gazebee came to the house. He had never been there before, nor had he ever met Dr. Thorne except at the squire’s dinner. On this occasion he asked only for the baronet.

“Ah! ah! I’m glad you’re come, Mr. Gazebee; very glad,” said Sir Louis; acting the part of the rich, great man with all the power he had. “I want to ask you a few questions so as to make it all clear sailing between us.”

“As you have asked to see me, I have come, Sir Louis,” said the other, putting on much dignity as he spoke. “But would it not be better that any business there may be should be done among the lawyers?”

“The lawyers are very well, I dare say; but when a man has so large a stake at interest as I have in this Greshamsbury property, why, you see, Mr. Gazebee, he feels a little inclined to look after it himself. Now, do you know, Mr. Gazebee, how much it is that Mr. Gresham owes me?”

Mr. Gazebee, of course, did know very well; but he was not going to discuss the subject with Sir Louis, if he could help it.

“Whatever claim your father’s estate may have on that of Mr. Gresham is, as far as I understand, vested in Dr. Thorne’s hands as trustee. I am inclined to believe that you have not yourself at present any claim on Greshamsbury. The interest, as it becomes due, is paid to Dr. Thorne; and if I may be allowed to make a suggestion, I would say that it will not be expedient to make any change in that arrangement till the property shall come into your own hands.”

“I differ from you entirely, Mr. Gazebee; in toto, as we used to say at Eton. What you mean to say is⁠—I can’t go to law with Mr. Gresham; I’m not so sure of that; but perhaps not. But I can compel Dr. Thorne to look after my interests. I can force him to foreclose. And to tell you the truth, Gazebee, unless some arrangement is proposed to me which I shall think advantageous, I shall do so at once. There is near a hundred thousand pounds owing to me; yes to me. Thorne is only a name in the matter. The money is my money; and, by ⸻, I mean to look after it.”

“Have you any doubt, Sir Louis, as to the money being secure?”

“Yes, I have. It isn’t so easy to have a hundred thousand pounds secured. The squire is a poor man, and I don’t choose to allow a poor man to owe me such a sum as that. Besides, I mean to invest it in land. I tell you fairly, therefore, I shall foreclose.”

Mr. Gazebee, using all the perspicuity which his professional education had left to him, tried to make Sir Louis understand that he had no power to do anything of the kind.

“No power! Mr. Gresham shall see whether I have no power. When a man has a hundred thousand pounds owing to him he ought to have some power; and, as I take it, he has. But we will see. Perhaps you know Finnie, do you?”

Mr. Gazebee, with a good deal of scorn in his face, said that he had not that pleasure. Mr. Finnie was not in his line.

“Well, you will know him then, and you’ll find he’s sharp enough; that is, unless I have some offer made to me that I may choose to accept.” Mr. Gazebee declared that he was not instructed to make any offer, and so he took his leave.

On that afternoon, Sir Louis went off to Boxall Hill, transferring the miserable task of superintending his self-destruction from the shoulders of the doctor to those of his mother. Of Lady Scatcherd, the baronet took no account in his proposed sojourn in the country, nor did he take much of the doctor in leaving Greshamsbury. He again wrapped himself in his furs, and, with tottering steps, climbed up into the barouche which was to carry him away.

“Is my man up behind?” he said to Janet, while the doctor was standing at the little front garden-gate, making his adieux.

“No, sir, he’s not up yet,” said Janet, respectfully.

“Then send him out,