Читать книгу Blind Policy - Fenn George Manville - Страница 1

“Oh, you wicked old woman! Ah, you dare to cry, and I’ll send you to bed.”

“No, no, auntie, don’t, please. What will dear Isabel think? You’re not going to spoil a delightful evening?”

“Of course she is not. Here, old lady; have another glass of claret – medicinally.”

Dr Chester jumped up, gave his sister and the visitor a merry look, took the claret to the head of the table and refilled his own glass.

But the lady shook her grey sausage curls slowly, and elaborately began to unfold a large bordered pocket-handkerchief, puckered up her plump countenance, gazed piteously at the sweet face on her right, bent her head over to her charming niece on the left, and then proceeded to up a few tears.

“No, no, no, Fred; not a drop more. It only makes me worse; I can’t help it, my love.”

“Yes, you can, old lady. Come, try and stop it. You’ll make Bel cry too.”

“I wish she would, Fred, and repent before it’s too late.”

“What!” cried the doctor.

“Don’t shout at me, my dear. I want to see her repent. It’s very nice to see the carriages come trooping, and to know what a famous doctor you are; but you don’t understand my complaint, Fred.”

“Oh yes, I do, old lady. Grumps, eh, Laury?”

“No, no, my dear. It’s heart. I’ve suffered too much, and the sight of Isabel Lee, here, coming and playing recklessly on the very brink of such a precipice, is too much for me.”

The tears now began to fall fast, and the two girls rose from their seats simultaneously to try and comfort the sufferer.

“Playing? Precipice?” cried the young doctor. “Step back, Bel dear; you shouldn’t. Auntie, what do you mean?”

“Marriage, my dear, marriage,” wailed the old lady.

“Fudge?” cried the doctor. “Here, take your medicine. No; I’ll pour you out a fresh glass. You’ve poisoned that one with salt water.”

“I haven’t, Fred.”

“You have, madam. I saw two great drops fall in – plop. Come, swallow your physic. Bel, give her one of those grapes to take after it.”

“No, no, no!” cried the old lady, protesting. “Don’t, Laury;” but her niece held the glass to her lips till she gulped the claret down, and it made her cough, while the visitor exchange glances with the doctor.

“I – I didn’t want it, Fred; and it’s not fudge. Oh, my dear Isabel, be warned before it is too late. Marriage is a delusion and a snare.”

“Yes, and Bel’s caught fast, auntie. Just going to pop her finger into the golden wire.”

“Don’t, my dear; be warned in time,” cried the old lady, piteously. “I was once as young and beautiful as you are, and I said yes, and was married, only to be forsaken at the end of ten years, to become a weary, unhappy woman, with only three thousand four hundred and twenty-two pounds left; and it’s all melting slowly away, while when it’s all gone Heaven only knows what’s to become of me.”

“Poor old auntie!” said Laura Chester soothingly, taking the old lady’s head on her shoulder; but it would shake all the same.

“I had a house of my own, and now I have come down to keeping my nephew’s. Don’t you marry, my poor child: take warning by me. Men are so deceitful.”

“Wrong, auntie. Men were deceivers ever.”

“I’m not wrong, Fred. You’ve been a very good boy to me, but you’re a grown man now, and though I love you I couldn’t trust you a bit.”

“Thank you, aunt dear.”

“I can’t, my love, knowing what I do. Human nature is human nature.”

“Aunt dear, for shame!” cried Laura.

“No, my dear, it’s no shame, but the simple truth, and I always told your poor father it was a sin and a crime to expose a young man to such temptation.”

“Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the doctor, boisterously. “Here, Bel dear, don’t you trust me.”

The young people’s eyes met, full of confidence, and the old lady shook her head again.

“I know what the world is and what men are,” she continued, “and nothing shall make me believe that some of these fashionable patients have anything the matter with them.”

“Oh, you wicked old woman!” cried the doctor.

“I’m not, Fred,” she cried angrily.

“Oh yes, you are, old lady. You say I don’t understand your complaint; it’s conscience.”

“It is not, sir. I’ve nothing on my conscience at all.”

“I don’t believe you, auntie,” he cried banteringly. “You must have been a wicked old flirt.”

“It is false, sir; and I don’t hold with doctors being young and handsome.”

“No; I twig. Repentance. You used to go and see one when you were young, and give him guineas to feel your pulse.”

“How can you say such wicked things, Fred?” cried the old lady, turning scarlet. “But I will say it now. I’m sure it’s not right for you to be seeing all these fine fashionable ladies, scores of them, every day.”

“Do take her upstairs, Laury,” said the doctor, merrily. “Help her, Bel dear. You hear; I’m a horribly wicked man, and so fascinating that the ladies of Society flock to see me. Now, I appeal to you, dear. Did you ever hear such a wicked, suspicious old woman?”

“Don’t, don’t, don’t, Fred,” sobbed the lady in question. “I only spoke for your good. But it can’t last long now; and when I’m dead and gone you’ll be sorry for all you’ve said.”

“Poor old darling!” said the doctor, affectionately; “she sha’n’t have her feelings hurt. Now then, toddle up to the drawing-room. Lie down a bit; and have an early cup of tea, Laury.”

“No, no, no,” sobbed the old lady. “I’m only a poor, worn-out, useless creature, and the sooner the grave closes over me the better.”

She was out at the foot of the stairs, leaning upon her niece’s arm, before she had finished her sentence, and Isabel Lee, half troubled, half amused, was following through the door, which the doctor kept open, but he let it go and held out his hands, as the girl looked tenderly up a him. Then the door swung to, and the next moment she was clasped in his arms.

“My darling!” he whispered; and then in the silence which followed they could hear faintly the voice of the old lady on the stairs.

“I’m so sorry, Bel dear,” said the doctor tenderly. “She has one of her fits on to-day. Poor old soul, she has had a great deal of trouble.”

“I know, Fred dear. I don’t mind.”

“But it’s rather hard on our visitor, whom we want to entertain – queer entertainment.”

“Don’t talk about it, Fred. Let me go now.”

“Without any balm for the suffering, deceitful wretch? Just one.”

“Well, only one. Come up soon.”

It was, as the doctor said, a very tiny one, and then the girl had struggled free and hurried up to the drawing-room, while the giver went back to his seat.

“Bless her! I honestly believe she’s the most amiable girl in the world,” said the doctor; as he sat sipping his claret. “Only a fortnight now, and then no more going away. I do love her with all my heart, and I say devoutly, thank God for giving me the chance of possessing so good a partner for life.”

He sat sipping thoughtfully.

“Bother the old woman!” he cried suddenly. “To break out like that. Suspicious as ever; but Bel took it the right way. I didn’t know I was such a Lothario. How absurd! Now about to-morrow’s engagements. Let’s see.”

He took out a memorandum book, wrinkled up his forehead, and the next minute was deep in thought over first one and then another of the serious cases in which he had to do battle with the grim Shade, ending by getting up and pacing the room, forgetful of all social ties and the presence of his betrothed overhead.

“Oh, Fred!” brought him back to the present.

“Eh? What’s the matter, dear?”

“Matter? Well, if ever I have a lover I hope he’ll be different to you. There’s auntie fast asleep, and poor Isabel sitting watching the door with the tears in her eyes.”

“Tut-tut-tut!” ejaculated the brother. “Yes; too bad, but I have a very serious case on hand, dear, and I am obliged to give it a great deal of careful consideration.”

“You’re always like that now, Fred,” said his sister, pettishly. “I hope you don’t mean to see patients on your wedding-day.”

“Oh, hang it! no, Laury. Here, I’ll come up and have some music; but you needn’t be so sharp, little one. Gentlemen are allowed to sit over their wine, and you haven’t been gone five minutes.”

“Monster!” cried Laura. “It’s over half an hour!”

“Oh!” ejaculated the doctor, “get out of the way.”

He dashed by his sister, and went up the stair three at a time to enter the back drawing-room where he was saluted by a snore from the sofa, and then passed through the folding-doors, his steps inaudible upon the soft carpet. He stood gazing tenderly at the picture he saw in a great mirror of a sweet, sad face resting upon its owner’s hand; and his conscience smote him as he saw that the eyes were indeed full of tears.

The next moment there was a faint cry of joy, and the face lit up, for he had stolen behind, sunk upon one knee, passed his arm round the slight waist, and was in the act of pressing his lips to those of his betrothed, when there was a gentle cough, and they started apart, to turn and see Laura’s head between the nearly closed folding-doors, with a mischievous look in her eyes.

“Oh, Bel! For shame!” she whispered merrily. “You don’t seem to take poor Aunt Grace’s words a bit to heart.”

“You come in and behave yourself,” said the doctor. “Don’t you begin making mischief.”

“I’m not coming in, Fred,” said the girl, saucily. “I don’t like to see such goings-on. Is that the way people make love?”

The doctor sprang up threateningly and made for the doors, but the head disappeared.

“She’ll never grow into a woman, Bel dear,” said the doctor, turning to her.

“Oh yes, I shall,” came from the door, as the head was thrust in again. “Now I’m going to sit with auntie till she wakes. Go on with your love-making, Daphnis and Chloe. Oh, I shall be so glad when you’ve both come to your senses again.”

This time the door closed with a click, and the doctor sank on his knee again by Isabel, and drew her to him fondly.

“Been thinking of what poor old aunt said, Bel?” he whispered, as her head sank upon his shoulder.

“No, not at all I only wanted you to come.”

“And you trust me fully?”

“Of course, Fred. You know I do.”

“And always will?”

“How can you ask me?”

“It is so pleasant to be told that you have the fullest confidence in your husband to be. Tell me you trust me.”

“It is insulting you, Fred,” said the girl gently as she gazed in his eyes. “How could I accept you if I did not know you to be the truest, bravest – Oh, Fred!”

“I was obliged to stop those flattering lips,” he said. “I’m vain enough of having won my darling, and – Oh, hang it!”

“I beg pardon, sir; I did knock,” said the servant. “Urgent, sir. A lady in your consulting-room.”

“All right; down directly,” said the doctor, who had started up. “I say, Bel darling, I must be more professional. You mustn’t lock me in your dear arms like this without you turn the key. I sha’n’t be long.”

Isabel Lee uttered a low sigh as her betrothed made for the door, and as he passed out there was the sound of voices in the back drawing-room, Aunt Grace having finished her nap.

“Who is it, Laury?”

“I don’t know, aunt dear; something urgent. Smith said a lady.”

“Another lady? and at this time of night?”

“People fall ill at all times, aunt dear,” said the girl, coldly. “Hush! don’t say any more please; Isabel will hear you.”

“But I can’t help it, my dear,” said the lady in a peevish whisper, every word of which reached the visitor’s ears. “Oh dear me, I wish Fred was not so good-looking. Well, it’s only another fortnight. I begin to think he ought to be married at once.”