Doctor Thorne, Anthony Trollope [an ebook reader .TXT] 📗

fortunate enough to get such a girl as you to come and stay with her, she ought to have had something proper for her to ride upon; but I’ll look to it as soon as I am a little stronger, you see if I don’t;” and, so saying, Sir Louis trotted off, leaving Mary in peace with her donkey.

Sir Louis had now been living cleanly and forswearing sack for what was to him a very long period, and his health felt the good effects of it. No one rejoiced at this more cordially than did the doctor. To rejoice at it was with him a point of conscience. He could not help telling himself now and again that, circumstanced as he was, he was most specially bound to take joy in any sign of reformation which the baronet might show. Not to do so would be almost tantamount to wishing that he might die in order that Mary might inherit his wealth; and, therefore, the doctor did with all his energy devote himself to the difficult task of hoping and striving that Sir Louis might yet live to enjoy what was his own. But the task was altogether a difficult one, for as Sir Louis became stronger in health, so also did he become more exorbitant in his demands on the doctor’s patience, and more repugnant to the doctor’s tastes.

In his worst fits of disreputable living he was ashamed to apply to his guardian for money; and in his worst fits of illness he was, through fear, somewhat patient under his doctor’s hands; but just at present he had nothing of which to be ashamed, and was not at all patient.

“Doctor,”⁠—said he, one day, at Boxall Hill⁠—“how about those Greshamsbury title-deeds?”

“Oh, that will all be properly settled between my lawyer and your own.”

“Oh⁠—ah⁠—yes; no doubt the lawyers will settle it: settle it with a fine bill of costs, of course. But, as Finnie says,”⁠—Finnie was Sir Louis’s legal adviser⁠—“I have got a tremendously large interest at stake in this matter; eighty thousand pounds is no joke. It ain’t everybody that can shell out eighty thousand pounds when they’re wanted; and I should like to know how the thing’s going on. I’ve a right to ask, you know; eh, doctor?”

“The title-deeds of a large portion of the Greshamsbury estate will be placed with the mortgage-deeds before the end of next month.”

“Oh, that’s all right. I choose to know about these things; for though my father did make such a con‑found‑ed will, that’s no reason I shouldn’t know how things are going.”

“You shall know everything that I know, Sir Louis.”

“And now, doctor, what are we to do about money?”

“About money?”

“Yes; money, rhino, ready! ‘put money in your purse and cut a dash;’ eh, doctor? Not that I want to cut a dash. No, I’m going on the quiet line altogether now: I’ve done with all that sort of thing.”

“I’m heartily glad of it; heartily,” said the doctor.

“Yes, I’m not going to make way for my faraway cousin yet; not if I know it, at least. I shall soon be all right now, doctor; shan’t I?”

“ ‘All right’ is a long word, Sir Louis. But I do hope you will be all right in time, if you will live with decent prudence. You shouldn’t take that filth in the morning though.”

“Filth in the morning! That’s my mother, I suppose! That’s her ladyship! She’s been talking, has she? Don’t you believe her, doctor. There’s not a young man in Barsetshire is going more regular, all right within the posts, than I am.”

The doctor was obliged to acknowledge that there did seem to be some improvement.

“And now, doctor, how about money? Eh?”

Doctor Thorne, like other guardians similarly circumstanced, began to explain that Sir Louis had already had a good deal of money, and had begun also to promise that more should be forthcoming in the event of good behaviour, when he was somewhat suddenly interrupted by Sir Louis.

“Well, now; I’ll tell you what, doctor; I’ve got a bit of news for you; something that I think will astonish you.”

The doctor opened his eyes, and tried to look as though ready to be surprised.

“Something that will really make you look about; and something, too, that will be very much to the hearer’s advantage⁠—as the newspaper advertisements say.”

“Something to my advantage?” said the doctor.

“Well, I hope you’ll think so. Doctor, what would you think now of my getting married?”

“I should be delighted to hear of it⁠—more delighted than I can express; that is, of course, if you were to marry well. It was your father’s most eager wish that you should marry early.”

“That’s partly my reason,” said the young hypocrite. “But then, if I marry I must have an income fit to live on; eh, doctor?”

The doctor had some fear that his interesting protégée was desirous of a wife for the sake of the income, instead of desiring the income for the sake of the wife. But let the cause be what it would, marriage would probably be good for him; and he had no hesitation, therefore, in telling him, that if he married well, he should be put in possession of sufficient income to maintain the new Lady Scatcherd in a manner becoming her dignity.

“As to marrying well,” said Sir Louis, “you, I take it, will be the last man, doctor, to quarrel with my choice.”

“Shall I?” said the doctor, smiling.

“Well, you won’t disapprove, I guess, as the Yankee says. What would you think of Miss Mary Thorne?”

It must be said in Sir Louis’s favour that he had probably no idea whatever of the estimation in which such young ladies as Mary Thorne are held by those who are nearest and dearest to them. He had no sort of conception that she was regarded by her uncle as an inestimable treasure, almost too precious to be rendered up to the arms of any man; and infinitely beyond any price in silver and gold, baronets’ incomes of eight