- don't look in that puzzled way, man! - you'd better give her up altogether, and I'll take her to Bath or Brighton,' or somewhere for change, for in my opinion it's only moping and nervousness.' But the squire's bluff florid face was pinched with anxiety, and worn with the effort of being deaf to the footsteps of fate as he said these words which belied his fears.Mr Gibson replied very quietly, - 'I shall go on coming to see her, and I know you will not forbid my visits.
But I shall bring Dr Nicholls with me the next time I come.I may be mistaken in my treatment; and I wish to God he may say I am mistaken in my apprehensions.' 'Don't tell me them! I cannot hear them!' cried the squire.'Of course we must all die; and she must too.But not the cleverest doctor in England shall go about coolly meting out the life of such as her.I dare say Ishall die first.I hope I shall.But I'll knock any one down who speaks to me of the death sitting within me.And, besides, I think all doctors are ignorant quacks, pretending to knowledge they haven't got.Ay, you may smile at me.I don't care.Unless you can tell me I shall die first, neither you nor your Dr Nicholls shall come prophesying and croaking about this house.' Mr Gibson went away, heavy at heart at the thought of Mrs Hamley's approaching death, but thinking little enough of the squire's speeches.He had almost forgotten them, in fact, when about nine o'clock that evening, a groom rode in from Hamley Hall in hot haste, with a note from the squire.DEAR GIBSON, - For God's sake forgive me if I was rude to-day.She is much worse.Come and spend the night here.Write for Nicholls, and all the physicians you want.Write before you start off here.They may give her ease.There were Whitworth doctors much talked of in my youth for curing people given up by the regular doctors; can't you get one of them? I put myself in your hands.Sometimes I think it is the turning point, and she'll rally after this bout.I trust all to you.Yours ever, R.HAMLEY.P.S.- Molly is a treasure.- God help me! Of course Mr Gibson went; for the first time since his marriage cutting short Mrs Gibson's querulous lamentations over her life, as involved in that of a doctor called out at all hours of day and night.He brought Mrs Hamley through this attack; and for a day or two the squire's alarm and gratitude made him docile in Mr Gibson's hands.Then he returned to the idea of its being a crisis through which his wife had passed; and that she was now on the way to recovery.But the day after the consultation with Dr Nicholls, Mr Gibson said to Molly, - 'Molly! I've written to Osborne and Roger.Do you know Osborne's address?' 'No, papa.He's in disgrace.I don't know if the squire knows; and she has been too ill to write.' 'Never mind.I'll enclose it to Roger; whatever those lads may be to others, there's as strong brotherly love as ever I saw, between the two.Roger will know.And, Molly, they are sure to come home as soon as they hear my report of their mother's state.I wish you'd tell the squire what I've done.It's not a pleasant piece of work; and I'll tell madam myself in my own way.I'd have told him if he'd been at home; but you say he was obliged to go to Ashcombe on business.' 'Quite obliged.He was so sorry to miss you.But, papa, he will be so angry!
You don't know how mad he is against Osborne.' Molly dreaded the squire's anger when she gave him her father's message.
She had seen quite enough of the domestic relations of the Hamley family to understand that, underneath his old-fashioned courtesy, and the pleasant hospitality he showed to her as a guest, there was a strong will, and a vehement passionate temper, along with that degree of obstinacy in prejudices (or 'opinions,' as he would have called them) so common to those who have, neither in youth nor in manhood, mixed largely with their kind.She had listened, day after day, to Mrs Hamley's plaintive murmurs as to the deep disgrace in which Osborne was being held by his father - the prohibition of his coming home; and she hardly knew how to begin to tell him that the letter summoning Osborne had already been sent off.Their dinners were tête-à-tête.The squire tried to make them pleasant to Molly, feeling deeply grateful to her for the soothing comfort she was to his wife.He made merry speeches, which sank away into silence, and at which they each forgot to smile.He ordered up rare wines, which she did not care for, but tasted out of complaisance.
He noticed that one day she had eaten some brown buerré pears as if she liked them; and as his trees had not produced many this year, he gave directions that this particular kind should be sought for through the neighbourhood.Molly felt that, in many ways, he was full of good-will towards her; but it did not diminish her dread of touching on the one sore point in the family.However, it had to be done, and that without delay.The great log was placed on the after-dinner fire, the hearth swept up, the ponderous candles snuffed, and then the door was shut, and Molly and the squire were left to their dessert.She sate at the side of the table in her old place.That at the head was vacant; yet as no orders had been given to the contrary, the plate and glasses and napkin were always arranged as regularly and methodically as if Mrs Hamley would come in as usual.
