“But I thought you hated London,” I said, not sorry to tease him a little. “You have always said you were so thankful to live outside the noise and clamour of the world.”
My remarks irritated the professor to such a degree that I believe he could have thrown a book at me had one been handy, but they had merely the effect of inflaming his passion for the great city with its vast opportunities.
“Why not let him go alone?” I suggested to the invalid. “He says the rooms will have to be paid for, and he is miserable about all the important appointments he is missing. If you could look out of the window, you would see him raging up and down the garden.”
“Oh yes, I know,” said Lizzie impatiently, “he always does that when he’s put out. Somehow I am reluctant to let Uncle Sep out of my sight, especially in London; he does crazy, impulsive things and is so easily talked into follies, such as spending and lending, and I act as a sort of brake; then those chattering elderly women at Number 20 make no end of him and imply that he is quite a lady-killer and irresistibly attractive. Poor Uncle Sep never was either; clever enough, but not very wise, especially since he slipped on a banana and fell on the back of his head. You say he is dull and disappointed?”
“‘Dull and disappointed’ but feebly conveys the case! He is like Kipper when he sees me with my hat on, frantic to go out. He ate no dinner last night.”
“Then, indeed, he is in a bad way! Well, ask him to saturate himself with eucalyptus, and to come and talk it all over with me after lunch.”
The result of this talk was the departure of the professor the very next morning. He made an almost imposing figure in his London clothes, tall hat, frock coat, neat umbrella, and modern boots. As I escorted him to the little gate he remarked:
“Well, Evie, this time I shall do something with the managers. I have a presentiment that I shall bring back a huge success.”
“Only it’s so cold I’d throw my shoe after you,” I replied, “but I wish you the best of luck.”
Without any further remark, or even the formality of a farewell, he climbed into the creaking fly and was presently lumbering away. Lizzie’s illness lasted longer than we anticipated; she kept her room for nearly three weeks; meanwhile, village and parochial business was more or less dislocated. Mr. Chesterfield the rector called daily and sent flowers, newspapers, and notes, but never approached the infected premises nearer than a hundred yards.