“Then here is the case. All this insomnia is the consequence of an over-excited brain. Your father has certain ideas, and unfortunately they grow upon him. He has struggled hard to be rich. Now, of course, I know very little about his affairs, but everything points to the fact that he is a very rich man.”
“Yes,” sighed Claude; “he is, I think, very rich.”
“We will take it to be so. Well, then, why cannot he be content, and not be constantly striving for more?” Claude sighed again.
“I like money, wealth, power, and the rest of it; and I could go into London, say, and work up a prosperous practice; but I am happy here, with just enough for my needs; so I say to myself, ‘why should I stir?’”
“You are right, doctor. But my father’s case—what can we do?”
“I’ll tell you. Let me have your co-operation more. I want him weaned from this hunt for wealth; and the only way to achieve this is for you and your cousin to give way to him in everything. Never thwart him, for fear of bringing on one of those terrible fits.”
“I will try in every way,” replied Claude.
“Any opposition to his will would be seriously hurtful. Then, as to his life, it really rests with you to wean him in every way from his present pursuits. Company, visits, travel, anything to diver his attention from the constant struggle for more of the sordid dross.”
“But if you told him all this, doctor? I feel so helpless.”
“I have told him again and again, without success, but if we all combine more and more to keep up the pressure, we may win at last.”