"Well," she said, "how does he look? what do you think? Tell me at once."
"It is impossible, my dear Mrs. Claxton," said the good-natured apothecary, looking at her kindly, and speaking in a softened voice; "it is impossible for me to judge of Mr. Claxton's state from a mere cursory glance and casual talk; but I am bound to say that, from what I could observe, I fancy he must be considerably out of health."
"So I thought," said Alice; "so I feared." And her tears fell fast.
"You must not give way, my dear madam," said Mr. Broadbent. "What I say may be entirely unfounded. I am, recollect, only giving you my impression after a conversation with your husband, in which, at your express wish, I refrained from asking him anything about himself."
"If I could manage to persuade him to see you, would you come in this afternoon or tomorrow morning, Mr. Broadbent?"
"I would, of course, do anything you wished; but as Mr. Claxton has never hitherto done me the honour to consult me professionally, and as it seems to me to be a case the diagnosis of which should be very carefully gone into, I would recommend that he should consult some physician of eminence. Possibly he knows such a one."
"No," said Alice, "I have never heard him mention any physician since our marriage."
"If that be the case, I would strongly advise you to call in Doctor Houghton. He is a man of the greatest eminence; and, as it happens, I see him every day just now, as we have a regular consultation at the Rookery--you know, the large place on the other side of the village, where poor Mr. Piggott is lying dangerously ill. If you like, I will mention the case to Doctor Haughton when I see him to-morrow."
"Thank you, Mr. Broadbent; I am deeply obliged to you, but I must speak to John first. I should not like to do anything without his knowledge. I will speak to him this afternoon, and send a note round to you in the evening." And Mr. Broadbent, much graver and much less boisterous than usual, took his departure.
John Claxton remained pretty much in the same dozing kind of state during the day. He came in to luncheon, and made an effort to talk cheerfully upon the contents of the newspaper and suchlike topics, and afterwards he had a romp in the hall with little Bell, the weather being too raw for the child to go out of doors. But two or three turns at the battledore and shuttlecock, two or three spinnings of the big humming-top, two or three hidings behind the greatcoats, seemed to be enough for him, and he rang for the nurse to take the child to her room just as the little one was beginning to enter into the sport of the various games. Alice had been in and out through the hall during the pastime, and saw the child go quietly off, bearing her disappointment bravely, and saw her husband turn listlessly into the library, his hands buried in the pockets of his shooting-jacket and his head sunk upon his breast. Poor little Alice! Her life for the last few years had been so bright and so full of sunshine; her whole being was so bound up with that of her kind thoughtful husband, who had taken her from almost penial drudgery and made her the star and idol of his existence, that when she saw him fighting bravely against the illness which was bearing him down, and ever striving to hide it from her, she could not make head against the trouble, but retired into a corner of her pretty little drawing-room and wept bitterly.