King of the Castle

“He can wait a little longer, eh? What do you say to a seat and a light? There, now, we can contemplate the beauties of nature all a-growing and all a-blowing,” he added, after sending out a great puff of smoke. – “By the way, recollect you dine with us to-night,” said Gartram, after about half-an-hour’s conversation.

“To-night?” said the doctor, hesitating.

“Yes. No nonsense; and you can bring me a fresh bottle in your pocket. Now, I think we may as well join them indoors, eh?”

The doctor rose and walked with his host to the study window, where Gartram ground out an oath between his teeth.

“You miserable, stupid little jade!” he muttered; “couldn’t you see that you were not wanted here?”

Mary’s eyelids drooped.

“Oh, yes, uncle dear,” she said to herself. “I understand your funny little ways, but I’m not going. Of course, I knew that I was not wanted by one, but I was by the other, and as the other was poor Claude, why, I had the letters done in five minutes, and I’ve been here ever since.”

“Why didn’t you write those letters, Mary?” said the old man fiercely.

“I did write, dear, and there they are on your table, ready for you to read over. Would you like to do it now?”

“No,” said Gartram, in his harshest voice. “Going, Glyddyr?” he continued, as the latter rose.

“Yes; I’ll walk back with Doctor Asher.”

“Ah, well, we shall see you this evening. – Don’t forget, doctor.”

He walked to the drawbridge with them, leaving Mary and Claude alone.

“There, Claudie; if any one tells you that you haven’t got a good little cousin, even if she is a bad shape – ”

“Mary, darling!” cried Claude, clinging to her, “I can’t thank you enough. I felt that I must rush away out of the room, and should have done so if you had not come.”

“Was he so very dreadful, Claudie?”

“Dreadful! It was horrible. Oh, Mary, darling, pray that you may never have to listen to a man who loves you.”

“When you love somebody else, you mean?”

“Oh, yes, yes, yes,” cried Claude excitedly.

“Poor darling coz,” said Mary affectionately; “but I need not pray, dear. There’s no need. No man will ever sit down by me and take my hand and tell me he loves me. I shall be spared all that.”

“And now I’ve wounded you with my thoughtless speech, Mary, dear. Ah, my darling, if you only would not think of your appearance; I never do.”

“No, dear, you are beautiful.”

“Beautiful, Mary? Ah! how gladly I’d change places with you.”

“What? Young, pretty, rich, and with two lovers dying for you.”

“It is not true,” cried Claude, flushing up. “This man loves me for the money, and – ”

She stopped short.

“Shall I finish?” said Mary maliciously; “and that man loves me for myself.”

“No,” said Claude sadly. “If he had loved me as he said, he would not have let himself be driven away from me so easily as he has.”

“Hist! uncle,” whispered Mary, as a heavy step was heard on the granite slabs without, and Gartram entered, scowling.

“Mary,” he cried harshly, “I thought you had some brains in your head, but you are no better than a fool.”

“I’m very sorry, uncle,” said the poor girl humbly.

“There, be off, both of you; I have some letters to write. See that the dinner is good, Claude, my dear, and – yes,” he added, as he referred to his watch, “send that woman with my medicine; it is just time.”

As he spoke, there was a tap on the panel, and Sarah Woodham, looking dark and stern in her black widows dress, entered with a glass and phial.

“Your medicine, sir,” she said in a low, impressive voice.

“Well, hang it all, woman, don’t speak as if you had come to poison me,” said the old man fiercely.

Sarah Woodham’s lips seemed to whiten, and as she drew the squeaking cork from the bottle and poured out the mixture, the neck tapped softly against the edge of the glass.

Volume Two – Chapter Seven.

For Money’s Sake

“Yes, fine old man,” said the doctor, as he and Glyddyr walked down the well-paved path together. “Good for any number of years.”

“In spite of the fits?”

“Oh, yes, my dear sir, in spite of the fits. They will not hurt him. Come on after any fresh excitement, and prostrate him a bit afterward, but there’s nothing much to mind.”

“But his sleeplessness? He complains a good deal of that.”

“Hum! Well, yes, that is a bad symptom. But he has his cure in his hands. He will worry himself about money, always striving to make more, when I’ll be bound to say he already has plenty.”

“So report says, doctor.”

“Oh, yes, and I daresay it’s true enough but that’s nothing to us. If he will only leave off worrying about the increase, he’ll be able to sleep well enough. But you said you would like a word with me.”

“Yes. Nothing much the matter, but I think I do want setting up a little.”

“Come into my consulting-room, and we’ll see,” said Asher, leading the way through a dainty-looking hall, full of the tasteful collections of a man who had evidently an eye for beauty, and had turned his home into quite a little museum.

“Why, doctor,” cried Glyddyr, in astonishment, “I didn’t know you had this sort of taste?”

“Indeed? Oh, yes. Regular lover of bric-à-brac, as far as my income will allow. This way.”

The next minute he had his new patient seated in a consulting-room that was the very opposite of the mausoleum-like abode of gloom into which a London physician has his patients shown.