第117章

'Nonsense! he knows better; you know better. Too weak! what signifies? Would I not give all that I have of strength at one blow if I could open his eyes to see as I see but for one minute?' And the sick man raised himself in his bed as though he were actually going to expend all that remained to him of vigour in the energy of the moment.

'Gently, Scatcherd; gently. He will listen to you yet; but do not be so unruly.'

'Thorne, you see that bottle there? Give me half a glass of brandy.'

The doctor turned round in his chair; but he hesitated in doing as he was desired.

'Do as I ask you, doctor. It can do no harm now; you know that well enough. Why torture me now?'

'No, I will not torture you; but you will have water with it?'

'Water! No; the brandy by itself. I tell you I cannot speak without it. What's the use of canting now? You know it can make no difference.'

Sir Roger was right. It could make no difference; and Dr Thorne gave him the half glass of brandy.

'Ah, well; you've a stingy hand, doctor; confounded stingy. You don't measure your medicines out in such light doses.'

'You will be wanting more before morning, you know.'

'Before morning! indeed I shall; a pint or two before that. I remember the time, doctor, when I have drunk to my own cheek above two quarts between dinner and breakfast! aye, and worked all day after it!'

'You have been a wonderful man, Scatcherd, very wonderful.'

'Aye, wonderful! well, never mind. It's over now. But what was I saying?--about Louis, doctor; you'll not desert him?'

'Certainly not.'

'He's not strong; I know that. How should he be strong, living as he has done? Not that it seemed to hurt me when I was his age.'

'You had the advantage of hard work.'

'That's it. Sometimes I wish that Louis had not a shilling in the world; that he had to trudge about with an apron round his waist as I did. But it's too late now to think of that. If he would marry, doctor.'

Dr Thorne again expressed an opinion that no step would be so likely to reform the habits of the young heir as marriage; and repeated his advice to the father to implore his son to take a wife.

'I'll tell you what, Thorne,' said he. And then, after a pause, he went on. 'I have not half told you as yet what is on my mind; and I'm nearly afraid to tell it; though, indeed, I don't know what I should be.'

'I never knew you afraid of anything yet,' said the doctor, smiling gently.

'Well, then, I'll not end by turning coward. Now, doctor, tell the truth to me; what do you expect me to do for that girl of yours that we were talking of--Mary's child?'

There was a pause for a moment, for Thorne was slow to answer him.

'You would not let me see her, you know, though she is my niece as truly as yours.'

'Nothing,' at last said the doctor, slowly. 'I expect nothing. I would not let you see her, and therefore, I expect nothing.'

'She will have it all if poor Louis should die,' said Sir Roger.

'If you intend it so you should put her name into the will,' said the other. 'Not that I ask you or wish you to do so. Mary, thank God, can do without wealth.'

'Thorne, on one condition I will put her name into it. I will alter it on one condition. Let the two cousins be man and wife--let Louis marry poor Mary's child.'

The proposition for a moment took away the doctor's breath, and he was unable to answer. Not for all the wealth of India would he have given up his lamb to that young wolf, even though he had had the power to do so. But that lamb--lamb though she was--had, as he well knew, a will of her own on such a matter. What alliance could be more impossible, thought he to himself, than one between Mary Thorne and Louis Scatcherd?

'I will alter it all if you will give me your hand upon it that you will do your best to bring about this marriage. Everything shall be his on the day he marries her; and should he die unmarried, it shall all then be hers by name. Say the word, Thorne, and she shall come here at once. I shall yet have time to see her.'

But Dr Thorne did not say the word; just at the moment he said nothing, but he slowly shook his head.

'Why not, Thorne?'

'My friend, it is impossible.'

'Why impossible?'

'Her hand is not mine to dispose of, nor is her heart.'

'Then let her come over herself.'

'What! Scatcherd, that the son might make love to her while the father is so dangerously ill! Bid her come to look for a rich husband! That would not be seemly, would it?'

'No; not for that: let her come merely that I may see her; that we may all know her. I will leave the matter then in your hands if you will promise me to do your best.'

'But, my friend, in this matter I cannot do my best. I can do nothing. And, indeed, I may say at once, that it is altogether out of the question. I know--'

'What do you know?' said the baronet, turning on him almost angrily.

'What can you know to make you say that it is impossible? Is she a pearl of such price that a man may not win her?'

'She is a pearl of great price.'

'Believe me, doctor, money goes far in winning such pearls.'

'Perhaps so; I know little about it. But this I do know, that money will not win her. Let us talk of something else; believe me, it is useless for us to think of this.'

'Yes; if you set your face against it obstinately. You must think very poorly of Louis if you suppose that no girl can fancy him.'

'I have not said so, Scatcherd.'

'To have the spending of ten thousand a year, and be a baronet's lady!

Why, doctor, what is it you expect for this girl?'

'Not much, indeed; not much. A quiet heart and a quiet home; not much more.'

'Thorne, if you will be ruled by me in this, she shall be the most topping woman in this county.'

'My friend, my friend, why thus grieve me? Why should you thus harass yourself? I tell you it is impossible. They have never seen each other; they have nothing, and can have nothing in common; their tastes, and wishes, and pursuits are different. Besides, Scatcherd, marriages never answer that are so made; believe me, it is impossible.'