“And I would just make up my mind to meet my troubles like a man. You have yours now; and they come the more painfully after a long course of prosperity and happiness; but even then, old fellow, life is too good a gift to talk of throwing it away.”
Scarlett shuddered, and the doctor watched him narrowly.
“Existence accompanied by a most awful fit of neuralgia would not be pleasant; but all the same I would not refuse it, even with those conditions, for the intervals when the neuralgia is not stinging you are about the most delicious moments by contrast that can be imagined.”
“Yes, yes; of course.”
“Well, then, now let us go and join them on the lawn. What do you say to beginning to fight the nervous foe at once?”
“Yes, at once,” said Scarlett, speaking as if under the influence of the doctor.
“Come along, then; and we shall master yet.”
Scarlett hesitated and hung back; but the doctor did not speak. He could see that his patient was trying to avoid his eye. Once Scarlett glanced up, but the look was rapid as lightning. He saw that the doctor was watching him, and he avoided his look again instantly, like a schoolboy who had committed some fault. At the end of a minute, though, he gradually raised his eyes again, slowly and furtively, and in a way that troubled the doctor more than he would have cared to own; but he had his consolation directly in finding his patient gazing fully at him while Scarlett uttered a low sigh of satisfaction, as if he rejoiced at being in charge of a stronger will than his own; and then, without a word, they moved towards the lawn.
“I must do my bit of fighting too,” said the doctor to himself, as his eyes fell upon Lady Martlett. “She’s very handsome; she knows it; and she wants to make me feel it; but she shall not.—Humph! How that fellow Prayle hangs about Lady Scarlett’s side. They can’t always be wanting to talk over business matters.”
“Well, James, have you had a pleasant stroll?” said Aunt Sophia, as the two men joined the group.