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

kept waiting. It was spring, the early spring, before Frank was made altogether a happy man.

But a word about the settlements. On this subject the doctor thought he would have been driven mad. Messrs Slow and Bideawhile, as the lawyers of the Greshamsbury family⁠—it will be understood that Mr. Gazebee’s law business was of quite a different nature, and his work, as regarded Greshamsbury, was now nearly over⁠—Messrs Slow and Bideawhile declared that it would never do for them to undertake alone to draw out the settlements. An heiress, such as Mary, must have lawyers of her own; half a dozen at least, according to the apparent opinion of Messrs Slow and Bideawhile. And so the doctor had to go to other lawyers, and they had again to consult Sir Abraham, and Mr. Snilam on a dozen different heads.

If Frank became tenant in tail, in right of his wife, but under his father, would he be able to grant leases for more than twenty-one years? and, if so, to whom would the right of trover belong? As to flotsam and jetsam⁠—there was a little property, Mr. Critic, on the seashore⁠—that was a matter that had to be left unsettled at the last. Such points as these do take a long time to consider. All this bewildered the doctor sadly, and Frank himself began to make accusations that he was to be done out of his wife altogether.

But, as we have said, there was one point on which Mary would have her own way. The lawyers might tie up as they would on her behalf all the money, and shares, and mortgages which had belonged to the late Sir Roger, with this exception, all that had ever appertained to Greshamsbury should belong to Greshamsbury again; not in perspective, not to her children, or to her children’s children, but at once. Frank should be lord of Boxall Hill in his own right; and as to those other liens on Greshamsbury, let Frank manage that with his father as he might think fit. She would only trouble herself to see that he was empowered to do as he did think fit.

“But,” argued the ancient, respectable family attorney to the doctor, “that amounts to two-thirds of the whole estate. Two-thirds, Dr. Thorne! It is preposterous; I should almost say impossible.” And the scanty hairs on the poor man’s head almost stood on end as he thought of the outrageous manner in which the heiress prepared to sacrifice herself.

“It will all be the same in the end,” said the doctor, trying to make things smooth. “Of course, their joint object will be to put the Greshamsbury property together again.”

“But, my dear sir,”⁠—and then, for twenty minutes, the lawyer went on proving that it would by no means be the same thing; but, nevertheless, Mary Thorne did have her own way.

In the course of the winter, Lady de Courcy tried very hard to induce the heiress to visit Courcy Castle, and this request was so backed by Lady Arabella, that the doctor said he thought she might as well go there for three or four days. But here, again, Mary was obstinate.

“I don’t see it at all,” she said. “If you make a point of it, or Frank, or Mr. Gresham, I will go; but I can’t see any possible reason.” The doctor, when so appealed to, would not absolutely say that he made a point of it, and Mary was tolerably safe as regarded Frank or the squire. If she went, Frank would be expected to go, and Frank disliked Courcy Castle almost more than ever. His aunt was now more than civil to him, and, when they were together, never ceased to compliment him on the desirable way in which he had done his duty by his family.

And soon after Christmas a visitor came to Mary, and stayed a fortnight with her: one whom neither she nor the doctor had expected, and of whom they had not much more than heard. This was the famous Miss Dunstable. “Birds of a feather flock together,” said Mrs. Rantaway⁠—late Miss Gushing⁠—when she heard of the visit. “The railway man’s niece⁠—if you can call her a niece⁠—and the quack’s daughter will do very well together, no doubt.”

“At any rate, they can count their moneybags,” said Mrs. Umbleby.

And in fact, Mary and Miss Dunstable did get on very well together; and Miss Dunstable made herself quite happy at Greshamsbury, although some people⁠—including Mrs. Rantaway⁠—contrived to spread a report, that Dr. Thorne, jealous of Mary’s money, was going to marry her.

“I shall certainly come and see you turned off,” said Miss Dunstable, taking leave of her new friend. Miss Dunstable, it must be acknowledged, was a little too fond of slang; but then, a lady with her fortune, and of her age, may be fond of almost whatever she pleases.

And so by degrees the winter wore away⁠—very slowly to Frank, as he declared often enough; and slowly, perhaps, to Mary also, though she did not say so. The winter wore away, and the chill, bitter, windy, early spring came round. The comic almanacs give us dreadful pictures of January and February; but, in truth, the months which should be made to look gloomy in England are March and April. Let no man boast himself that he has got through the perils of winter till at least the seventh of May.

It was early in April, however, that the great doings were to be done at Greshamsbury. Not exactly on the first. It may be presumed, that in spite of the practical, commonsense spirit of the age, very few people do choose to have themselves united on that day. But some day in the first week of that month was fixed for the ceremony, and from the end of February all through March, Lady Arabella worked and strove in a manner that entitled her to profound admiration.

It was at last settled that the breakfast should be held in the large dining-room at Greshamsbury. There was a difficulty about it which taxed