The Man with a Shadow. Fenn George Manville
which seemed to burn and sear the poor girl, as she read them aright – he went away, to hurry to his surgery in the Manor House.
“I’m very glad, for poor old Hartley’s sake, that the affair’s all off. It is, evidently; for Madam Leo seemed as cool as could be, and she’s as handsome and ladylike a girl as a man need wish to call wife. Humph! I’ll give him a little chloral – just a suspicion – to calm him down. Poor old boy! and he thinks he’s going to die. Well, it’s my theory,” he continued, as he compounded the sexton’s mixture and carefully corked it up; “and, think about it from whichever point I may, it seems to be quite right. There, Master Moredock, there’s your dose. That will lay any ghost in the United Kingdom, given sufficiently strong!”
Chapter Fourteen.
How Horace North did not go to the Meet
“What a morning for a run with the hounds!” said Horace North, as he stood at the door of the fine old Manor House, where he had come to cool himself, after a scene with Mrs Milt, his housekeeper, owing to a committee of ways and means.
Mrs Milt had wanted to have everything her way. The doctor had shown a desire to have everything his way, and the approach of the two forces had resulted in an explosion.
“Candlish offered me a mount, and I’ve a good mind to take the offer, just for once. A good gallop would do me a world of good. No; I’ll go and have a chat with old Moredock, see Mrs Berens, Biddy Tallis, and Brown’s baby, and then settle down to a good, quiet study. Hah!”
Horace North was dubious. A slight puff upon his vane would have sent it in either direction, and it seemed as if the decisive puff came just then in the shape of something as light as air. For there was the sound of hoofs; and directly after, looking exceedingly handsome in her tightly-fitting riding-habit and natty hat, Leo Salis passed on her pretty mare.
She caught sight of him, and returned a coquettish nod and smile to his low bow, but did not draw rein, though she must have seen his intention to hurry down to the gate; cantering gently on, as charming a specimen of early womanhood as ever rode gracefully upon a well-bred mare.
“By George! that settles it,” said the doctor. “Where’s the meet?”
He hurried in, snatched up the county paper, and found that it was at Fir Tree Hill, four miles beyond the Hall.
“The very thing,” he cried. “I’ll just get on my boots, and walk over to the Hall, get my mount, and go on. No, I won’t; I’ll drive.”
He rang the bell, and Mrs Milt – a very severe-looking, handsome, elderly lady – in the whitest of caps, bibs, and tuckers, appeared frowning, as if still charged with the remaining clouds of the late storm.
“Tell Dick to put the horse in the chaise.”
Mrs Milt tightened her lips, and made parallel lines in her forehead, but did not stir.
“Well?” said the doctor.
“Well?” said Mrs Milt.
“Did you hear what I said?”
“Perfectly,” said Mrs Milt.
“Then, why don’t you do it? And for Heaven’s sake, my dear Mrs Milt, let’s have no more of this petty squabbling. Discharge cook; have a fresh house-maid; paper and clean up, and do whatever you please, but don’t bother me.”
“It is not my wish to bother you, Dr North,” said the lady austerely, and with considerable emphasis on the word, “bother.”
“Very well, then, let’s have peace. Such a scene as we had this morning interferes with my studies. Now, go and tell him to put to the horse.”
“Will you be good enough to tell me how, Dr North?”
“What do you mean?”
“You sent your man in that chaise to fetch some drugs from King’s Hampton.”
“Hah! so I did. He ought to be back by now. Yes; there are wheels.”
“The carrier,” said Mrs Milt.
“Pish! of course. Never mind, I’ll walk. There’s something else coming,” he said, listening. “Yes; that’s the chaise. Go and tell Dick not to take out the horse, but to come round here.”
“He’s coming round,” said Mrs Milt, going to the window; “and there’s a gentleman with him.”
The doctor looked up hastily, and frowned, as he caught sight of a dark, sleek-looking personage, about to descend from the chaise; while, as Mrs Milt went to open the door, Horace North exclaimed to himself:
“Now, why in the world is it that Nature will set one against one’s relations, and above all against Cousin Thompson, for – ”
“Ah! my dear Horace, this was very good and thoughtful of you,” exclaimed the object of his thoughts, entering the room with extended hands.
“Ah! Thompson, glad to see you,” said the doctor, innocently enough – for the lie was from habit, not intentional – “but you are not cyanide of potassium!”
“Sure I’m not, indeed; but I want to consult you.”
“I sent in my man for a portion of that unpleasant chemical; not to meet you.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter, my dear boy. I was coming down, and I saw your chaise; and I know you like me to make myself at home, so give me some breakfast.”
“Yes, of course. Run down this morning?”
“Yes, by the six-thirty from Paddington. Early bird gets the first pick, you know.”
“There goes my gallop,” groaned the doctor, as a mental vision of Leo Salis appeared before him, while he rang the bell.
“Not ill, are you? Come to consult me?”
“No, I’m not ill; but I have come to consult you, my dear Horace.”
“Did you ring, sir?”
“Yes, Mrs Milt; my cousin would like some breakfast.”
“I am getting it ready, sir; but it can’t be done in two minutes and a half.”
“No, no, of course not, Mrs Milt. Thank you. Send word when it’s ready.”
“I’ll bring word myself, sir,” said Mrs Milt austerely.
“No, don’t trouble, my dear Mrs Milt,” said Cousin Thompson, who looked so sleek in skin and black cloth that he shone; “a cup of coffee and a sole, cutlet – anything.”
“Sole! cutlet! My dear fellow, this isn’t London. Give him some ham and eggs, Mrs Milt,” said the doctor. “Now, old fellow,” he continued, as the door closed after the housekeeper a little more loudly than was necessary, “business: what’s the matter? Liver?”
“No, no, my dear Horace. I’m quite well. To consult you about Mrs Berens.”
The doctor pushed back his chair.
“Why, how surprised you look! You recommended her to come to me about her money affairs.”
“Oh! Ah! Yes, of course; so I did. She asked me to give her the name of a London solicitor, and so I gave her yours – my cousin’s.”
“It was very good of you, Horace, for I am a poor man,” said the visitor sleekly. “Far be it from me to quarrel with Uncle Richard’s apportionment of his money, but – ”
“There, for goodness’ sake, don’t bring that up again! You know why the old man excluded you.”
“Yes. I had the misfortune to offend him, Horace,” said the visitor with a sigh.
“And now what about Mrs Berens?”
“Ah, yes; a very simple matter. You are a great friend of hers?”
“I am her doctor.”
“Yes, yes,” said the other, with an unpleasant chuckle, which made North long to kick him;