"Wainwright! not son of---- My dear sir, I am glad to make your acquaintance; one of the brightest ornaments of our profession; any care that I should have bestowed on this interesting case will be redoubled now that I know that our poor young friend here is a friend of yours. You will kindly take care that these prescriptions are made up at Balsam and Balmelow's, if you please; must have the best of drugs in these cases, and no other house is so much to be depended upon. Now I must run away; I will look in again in the evening; and during my absence I will make arrangements for the night-nurse. The attendance in the daytime I must look to you to provide. Good-day, my dear sir." And wringing George's hand warmly, the little man trotted off, jumped into his brougham, and was driven away to inspect, prescribe for, and chatter with a dozen other cases within the next few hours.
George sat down by the bedside and bent over its occupant, who was tossing restlessly from side to side, gazing about him with vacant eyes, and muttering and moaning in his delirium. What were the words, incoherent and broken, issuing from his parched lips? "My darling, my darling, stay by me now--no more horrible parting--never again that scornful look! Daisy, say you did not mean it when you wrote; say there is no one else--to-morrow, darling, in the old place--come and tell me your mind--my wife, my darling!"
These words were uttered with such intensity of earnestness--and although Paul's glance was never settled, his eyes roving here and there as he tossed and flung about his arms on the bed, there was such a piteous look in his face--that George Wainwright's emotion overcame him, and two big tears rolled down his cheeks.
"This will never do," said he, brushing them hastily; "it is as I thought, and that little doctor was right in his random hit. This affair with the girl has assumed proportions which I never suspected. Poor dear Paul used to make it out bad enough; but I had no notion that it had come to any crisis, or indeed, if it had, that he would suffer from it in this way. Now what is to be done? I think the first thing will be to see this young lady, and bring her to her bearings. If she has thrown Paul over, as I half suspect she has, I must let her know the consequences of her work, and see whether she persists in abiding by her determination. It may be only some lovers' quarrel; Paul is a mere boy in these matters, and hotheaded enough to take au sérieux what may have been only the result of pique or woman's whim; in that case, when she finds the effect that her quarrel has had upon him, she will probably repent, and her penitence will aid in bringing him round. On the other hand, if she still continues obdurate, one may be able to point out to him the fact that he is eminently well rid of so heartless a person. Not but what my little experience in such matters," said George with a sigh, "teaches me that lovers are uncommonly hard to convince of whatever they do not wish to believe."
In pursuance of this determination George Wainwright, so soon as he had installed the landlady in Paul's apartment as temporary nurse, started off in search of Daisy. He had listened to so many of poor Paul's confidences that he knew where the girl was to be found, and made his way straight to George Street.
Madame Clarisse was still away, and Daisy continued her occupancy of the little furnished rooms, into which George was ushered on inquiring for Miss Stafford. The rooms were empty on George's entrance, and he walked round them, examining the various articles of furniture and decoration with very contemptuous glances. Presently Daisy entered, and George stood transfixed in admiration. She looked magnificently handsome; the announcement of the name of her visitor had brought a bright flush into her cheek, and anticipating a stormy interview, she had come prepared to do battle with all the strength at her command, and accordingly assumed a cold and haughty air which became her immensely.
The transient glimpses which George had had of her that day in Kensington Gardens, though it had given him a general notion of her style, had by no means prepared him for the sight of such rare beauty. He was so taken aback that he allowed her to speak first.
"Mr. Wainwright, I believe?" said Daisy with a slight inclination of her head.
"That's my name," said George, coming to himself.
"The servant told me that you asked for me, that you wished to see me; I am Miss Stafford."