“You’re a ha’penny marvel, Peter—that’s what you are. You get me to tell you everything. It’s ‘cause I have to tell somebody, and I know you won’t split on me. Now about this ‘medicine’; I’m taking more and more of it. And why? Because it’s my only way of being happy. Before I married the Duchess I hardly ever touched it. I had my mother then. I wish you’d known her, Peter; she was a rare one for laughing. I only feel like laughing now when I’ve taken more ‘medicine’ than’s good for me. Not that I was ever drunk in my life. It never goes to my head—only legs.”
He had usually had too much when he made these confessions. Peter knew he had by the way in which he said, “I got a nacherly strong stomick. It’s a gif from God, I reckon.”
Peter kept these disclosures to himself and walked his uncle about till it was safe to return to Madeira Lodge. Ocky would retire as soon as they entered, saying that he had a bad headache. They became of such frequent occurrence that Jehane began to be suspicious.
During the next three years Ocky’s visits to Topbury were periodic. Barrington could usually calculate his advent to a nicety. One night there would be a ring at the bell and Mr. Waffles would enter unheralded. While others were present he would joke with his old abandon, as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Then Barrington would turn to him, “Shall we go upstairs to my study for a chat?”
The fiction was kept up that Ocky’s visits were of a friendly and family nature. The constant fear at Topbury was that the servants might guess and the scandal would leak out.
When the study door had shut behind them, Barrington would give vent to his indignation.
“How much this time?”
“I’ve had hard luck.”
“You mean you want me to clear off your debts and pay back the money you’ve taken?”
“It won’t happen again, Billy. Just this once.”