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

cup, and been to me as my own child. After that, I have a right to judge what is best for her. Her life is not like your life, and her ways are not as your ways⁠—”

“Ah, that is just it; we are too vulgar for her.”

“You may take it as you will,” said the doctor, who was too much in earnest to be in the least afraid of offending his companion. “I have not said so; but I do say that you and she are unlike in your way of living.”

“She wouldn’t like an uncle with a brandy bottle under his head, eh?”

“You could not see her without letting her know what is the connection between you; of that I wish to keep her in ignorance.”

“I never knew anyone yet who was ashamed of a rich connection. How do you mean to get a husband for her, eh?”

“I have told you of her existence,” continued the doctor, not appearing to notice what the baronet had last said, “because I found it necessary that you should know the fact of your sister having left this child behind her; you would otherwise have made a will different from that intended, and there might have been a lawsuit, and mischief and misery when we are gone. You must perceive that I have done this in honesty to you; and you yourself are too honest to repay me by taking advantage of this knowledge to make me unhappy.”

“Oh, very well, doctor. At any rate, you are a brick, I will say that. But I’ll think of all this, I’ll think of it; but it does startle me to find that poor Mary has a child living so near to me.”

“And now, Scatcherd, I will say goodbye. We part as friends, don’t we?”

“Oh, but doctor, you ain’t going to leave me so. What am I to do? What doses shall I take? How much brandy may I drink? May I have a grill for dinner? D⁠⸺ me, doctor, you have turned Fillgrave out of the house. You mustn’t go and desert me.”

Dr. Thorne laughed, and then, sitting himself down to write medically, gave such prescriptions and ordinances as he found to be necessary. They amounted but to this: that the man was to drink, if possible, no brandy; and if that were not possible, then as little as might be.

This having been done, the doctor again proceeded to take his leave; but when he got to the door he was called back. “Thorne! Thorne! About that money for Mr. Gresham; do what you like, do just what you like. Ten thousand, is it? Well, he shall have it. I’ll make Winterbones write about it at once. Five percent, isn’t it? No, four and a half. Well, he shall have ten thousand more.”

“Thank you, Scatcherd, thank you, I am really very much obliged to you, I am indeed. I wouldn’t ask it if I was not sure your money is safe. Goodbye, old fellow, and get rid of that bedfellow of yours,” and again he was at the door.

“Thorne,” said Sir Roger once more. “Thorne, just come back for a minute. You wouldn’t let me send a present would you⁠—fifty pounds or so⁠—just to buy a few flounces?”

The doctor contrived to escape without giving a definite answer to this question; and then, having paid his compliments to Lady Scatcherd, remounted his cob and rode back to Greshamsbury.

XIV Sentence of Exile

Dr. Thorne did not at once go home to his own house. When he reached the Greshamsbury gates, he sent his horse to its own stable by one of the people at the lodge, and then walked on to the mansion. He had to see the squire on the subject of the forthcoming loan, and he had also to see Lady Arabella.

The Lady Arabella, though she was not personally attached to the doctor with quite so much warmth as some others of her family, still had reasons of her own for not dispensing with his visits to the house. She was one of his patients, and a patient fearful of the disease with which she was threatened. Though she thought the doctor to be arrogant, deficient as to properly submissive demeanour towards herself, an instigator to marital parsimony in her lord, one altogether opposed to herself and her interest in Greshamsbury politics, nevertheless, she did feel trust in him as a medical man. She had no wish to be rescued out of his hands by any Dr. Fillgrave, as regarded that complaint of hers, much as she may have desired, and did desire, to sever him from all Greshamsbury councils in all matters not touching the healing art.

Now the complaint of which the Lady Arabella was afraid, was cancer: and her only present confidant in this matter was Dr. Thorne.

The first of the Greshamsbury circle whom he saw was Beatrice, and he met her in the garden.

“Oh, doctor,” said she, “where has Mary been this age? She has not been up here since Frank’s birthday.”

“Well, that was only three days ago. Why don’t you go down and ferret her out in the village?”

“So I have done. I was there just now, and found her out. She was out with Patience Oriel. Patience is all and all with her now. Patience is all very well, but if they throw me over⁠—”

“My dear Miss Gresham, Patience is and always was a virtue.”

“A poor, beggarly, sneaking virtue after all, doctor. They should have come up, seeing how deserted I am here. There’s absolutely nobody left.”

“Has Lady de Courcy gone?”

“Oh, yes! All the de Courcys have gone. I think, between ourselves, Mary stays away because she does not love them too well. They have all gone, and taken Augusta and Frank with them.”

“Has Frank gone to Courcy Castle?”

“Oh, yes; did you not hear? There was rather a fight about it. Master Frank wanted to get off, and was as hard to catch as an eel, and then the countess