“Major Vaughan,” continued the doctor, “has now been under my care for some weeks, and I had some communication with the regimental surgeon about his case before he sailed. He is suffering from an enlarged liver, and the disease has been brought on by his unfortunate habit of over-indulgence in stimulants.” I could almost have smiled, so very gently and considerately did the good old man veil in long words the shameful fact. “It is a habit sadly prevalent among our fellow-countrymen in India; the climate aggravates the mischief, and very many lives are in this way ruined. Then your father was also unfortunate enough to contract rheumatism when he was camping out in the jungle last year, and this is increasing on him very much, so that his life is almost intolerable to him, and he naturally flies for relief to his greatest enemy, drink. At all costs, however, you must keep him from stimulants; they will only intensify the disease and the sufferings, in fact they are poison to a man in such a state. Don’t think I am a bigot in these matters; but I say that for a man in such a condition as this, there is nothing for it but total abstinence, and at all costs your father must be guarded from the possibility of procuring any sort of intoxicating drink. Throughout the voyage I have done my best to shield him, but it was a difficult matter. His servant, too, is not trustworthy, and should be dismissed if possible.”
“Had he spoken at all of his plans?” asked Derrick, and his voice sounded strangely unlike itself.
“He asked me what place in England he had better settle down in,” said the doctor, “and I strongly recommended him to try Bath. This seemed to please him, and if he is well enough he had better go there to-morrow. He mentioned your mother this morning; no doubt she will know how to manage him.”
“My mother died six months ago,” said Derrick, pushing back his chair and beginning to pace the room. The doctor made kindly apologies.
“Perhaps you have a sister, who could go to him?”
“No,” replied Derrick. “My only sister is married, and her husband would never allow it.”
“Or a cousin or an aunt?” suggested the old man, naively unconscious that the words sounded like a quotation.
I saw the ghost of a smile flit over Derrick’s harassed face as he shook his head.
“I suggested that he should go into some Home for—cases of the kind,” resumed the doctor, “or place himself under the charge of some medical man; however, he won’t hear of such a thing. But if he is left to himself—well, it is all up with him. He will drink himself to death in a few months.”
“He shall not be left alone,” said Derrick; “I will live with him. Do you think I should do? It seems to be Hobson’s choice.”