“No, sir; oh, dear, no!” said the housekeeper sadly. “If you would only see him, and persuade him to, and get him to see a clever man, sir, it would be the best day’s work you ever did.”
“I’ll try, Mrs Milt,” said Salis; “but I’m disappointed.”
“So am I, sir. He wants doing good to, instead of trying to do good to other people. Those are some friends of Mr Thompson, sir. One of them’s got a very curious complaint that Mr Thompson said master was almost the only man who knew how to cure.”
“And did he see them?”
“Yes, sir, after a great deal of persuasion, and almost a quarrel, sir. I could hear master and Mr Thompson, sir, talking through the door, and he said master ought to be ashamed of himself if he let a gentleman who was suffering come down from town and drive all the way across from King’s Hampton in the hope of being cured, and then let him go back without seeing him.”
“Yes, Mrs Milt; go on,” said the curate eagerly.
“Well, sir, after a long fight Mr Thompson went away, but he went and tried again and master gave way directly, and went down in his dressing-gown, looking all white and scared, and saw those two gentlemen who have just gone away.”
“Well, I’m glad of that—heartily glad,” said Salis. “It is the thin end of the wedge, Mrs Milt, and we have good cause to be grateful to Mr Thompson for what he has done. Seeing patients again! This is good news indeed. He will see me now.”
Mrs Milt shook her head.
“I’m afraid not, sir.”