“Why, Mr. Vernor hinted that if his ward married without his consent, her fortune was to be forfeited.”
“Ah! I believe there was something of that nature in the will: my poor master was so wrapped up in old Wernor that he wrote just wot he told him; if he'd only a lived to see how he was going to use Miss Clara, he'd a ordered me to kick him out of the house instead.”
“Perhaps that pleasure may be yet in store for you, Peter,” replied I, laughing at the zest with which he uttered the last few words, and an involuntary motion of the foot by which they were accompanied; “but this power, which it seems Mr. Vernor really possesses, of depriving Miss Saville of her fortune, removes my greatest difficulty; for in that case, if he should attempt to urge on this match, I can at least make her the offer of sharing my poverty: there is my mother's roof to shelter her, and, if her guardian refuses his consent to our marriage, why, we must contrive to do without it, that is all. So now, Peter, if you will wait a few minutes, I will give you a note for your young mistress, and then get to horse without further loss of time;” and calling for pen, ink, and paper, I hastily scribbled a few lines to Clara, informing her of the events of the morning, and of my unalterable determination to save her from a union with Cumberland; begging her, at the same time, to continue firm in her opposition, to acquaint me with everything that might occur, and to rely upon me for protection in the event of anything like force being resorted to. I then entrusted my note to old Peter, begged him to watch Master Richard Cumberland closely, told him that upon his care and vigilance depended in great measure the happiness of his young mistress's life; tipped him handsomely, though I had some trouble in making him take the money; and, mounting my ill-disposed horse, rode back to Hillingford, on the whole tolerably well satisfied with my morning's work.
I found two letters awaiting my return: one from my mother, to say that she should be at Heathfield Cottage on the following day, and begging me to meet her; the other from Ellis, telling me that at length he hoped Oaklands was in a fair way to recover, it having been ascertained that a piece of the wadding of the pistol had remained behind when the ball was extracted; this had now come away, and the wound was healing rapidly. As his strength returned, Harry was growing extremely impatient to get back to Heathfield; and Ellis concluded by saying that they might be expected any day, and begging me at the same time to remember that from the first he had always declared, in regard to his patient, that it would have killed any other man, but that it could not kill him.
Days glided by, the absentees returned, and matters fell so completely into their old train again that the occurrences of the last eight months seemed like the unreal creations of some fevered dream, and there were times when I could scarcely bring myself to believe them true.
Harry Oaklands had recovered sufficiently to resume his usual habits; and, except that he was strictly forbidden to over-exert or fatigue himself (an injunction he appeared only too willing to obey), he was nearly emancipated from medical control. Fanny had in great measure regained her good looks again; a slight delicacy of appearance, however, still remained, giving a tone of spirituality to the expression of her features, which was not before observable, and which to my mind rendered her prettier than ever: the listlessness of manner which had made me uneasy about her in the autumn had vanished, and her spirits seemed good; still, she was in a degree altered, and one felt in talking to her that she was a child no longer. Like Undine, that graceful creation of La Motte Fouqué's genius, she appeared to have changed from a “tricksy sprite” into a thinking and feeling woman.
One morning Oaklands and Ellis came to the cottage together, the latter in a great state of joy and excitement, produced by a most kind and judicious exercise of liberality on the part of Sir John. About a month before, the grave and pompous Dr. Probehurt had been seized with an illness, from which in all probability he would have recovered had he not steadily refused to allow a rival practitioner to be called in, in order that he might test a favourite theory of his own, embodying a totally novel mode of treatment for the complaint with which he was attacked. Unfortunately, the experiment failed, and the doctor died. Sir John, who had been long anxious to evince his gratitude to Ellis for the skill and attention he had bestowed upon his patient, the moment he heard of the event determined to purchase the business: he had that morning completed the negotiation, and offered the practice to Ellis, stating that he should consider his accepting it in the light of a personal favour, as in that case he would be always at hand, should Harry feel any lasting ill effects from his wound. Ellis's joy was most amusing to witness.
“I tell you what, sir,” he exclaimed, seizing me by a button of the coat, “I'm a made man, sir! there isn't a better practice in the county. Why, poor Probehurt told me himself old Mrs. Croaker Crawley alone was worth a hundred pounds per annum to him:—four draughts and two pills everyday—prescription very simple—R. Pil. panis compos, ii. nocte sum.; haust. aqua vitæ 1/2, aqua pura 1/2 saccar. viii. grs. pro re nata. She's a strong old girl, and on brandy-and-water draughts and French-roll pills may last for the next twenty years. Noble thing of Sir John, very; 'pon my word, it has quite upset me—it's a fact, sir, that when Mr. Oaklandstold me of it I sat down and cried like a child. I'm not over tender-hearted either: when I was at Guy's I amputated the left leg of a shocking accident, and dissected the porter's mother-in-law (whom he sold us cheap for old acquaintance' sake) before breakfast one morning, without finding my appetite in the slightest degree affected; but when I learned what Sir John had done, I positively cried, sir.”
“I say, Ellis,” interrupted Harry, “I am telling Miss Fairlegh I shall make you take her in hand; she has grown so pale and thin, I am afraid she has never recovered all the trouble and inconvenience we caused her.”
“If Miss Fairlegh would allow me, I should recommend a little more air and exercise,” replied Ellis: “are you fond of riding on horseback?”