(Dr. Carter and his mother)
As Dr. Carter sat down again in his consulting-room by himself, he told himself that he had done wisely, though he had felt and inflicted pain, and still felt very sore and ruffled. But it was wisest, and practically kindest and best for her in the end, more surely for her happiness and comfort; so there was no need to regret it, or for that tiresome little feeling in one corner of his heart that seemed almost like remorse. This is no story-book world of chivalry, romance, and poetry; and to get on in it you must just lay aside sentimental fancies and act by the light of reason and common sense. And then he settled down to arrange the details of to-morrow's plans, and jotted down on a piece of paper a few memoranda of suitable places, times of trains, etc., and resolved that he would spare no pains or expense in making her thoroughly comfortable. He even wrote a note or two to put off some appointments, and felt quite gratified with the idea that he was sacrificing something on his mother's account. The clock struck two as he rose to go up to bed; and he went up feeling much more composed and satisfied with himself, having pretty successfully argued and reasoned down his troublesome, morbid misgivings. He listened at his mother's door, but all was quiet; and he made haste into bed himself, feeling he had gone through a good deal that day.
He was just turning over to sleep when his door opened softly, and his mother came in,—such a queer, funny, old figure, with a shawl wrapped around her and a very large nightcap on—one of the old-fashioned sort, with very broad, flapping frills. She had a candle in her hand, and set it down on the table by his bed. He jumped up as she came in.
"Why, mother, what's the matter? Not in bed? Are you ill?"
"There, there! lie down; there ain't nothing wrong. But I've been listening for ye this long time. 'Tis fifteen years and more since I tucked you up in bed, and you used to say as you never slept so sweet when I didn't do it."
She made him lie down, and smoothed his pillow, and brushed his hair off his forehead, and tucked the clothes round him, and kissed him as she spoke.
"And I thought as I'd like to do it for you once more. Good-night, Laddie, good-night."
And then she went away quickly, and did not hear him call, "Mother! O mother!" after her; for the carefully tucked-in clothes were flung off, and Laddie was out of bed with his hand on the handle of the door, and then,—second thoughts being cooler, if not better,—"She had better sleep," Dr. Carter said, and got back into bed.
But sleep did not come at his call. He tossed about feverishly and restlessly, with his mind tossing hither and thither as much as his body, the strong wind of his pride and will blowing against the running tide of his love and conscience, and making a rough sea between them, which would not allow of any repose. And which of them was the strongest? After long and fierce debate with himself, he came to a conclusion which at all events brought peace along with it. "Come what may," he said, "I will keep my mother with me, let people say or think what they will—even if it costs me Violet herself, as most likely it will. I can't turn my mother out in her old age, so there's an end of it." And there and then he went to sleep.