The Doctor’s Eyesight Improves.
Doctor Scales left his friend, after sending word by one of the servants that he wished to see Lady Scarlett. The meeting would be very painful, and it was one to be avoided. Consequently, beyond encountering Aunt Sophia in the course of the evening and answering a few questions, the doctor managed so well that he saw no one else belonging to the establishment before asking whether Scarlett would see him again, and retiring for the night.
“It isn’t a question of medicine,” he had said to himself. “Wretched woman! I always mistrusted her. I don’t know why, but I did. And now, what will be the next movement? They will separate of course; and after poor Scarlett has got over the shock, I daresay he will mend.—How closely he kept it, poor fellow. He must have loved her very dearly, and would not speak while it was mere suspicion.”
It was just about this time that Aunt Sophia came to him, to ask him if he would have some tea.
“No,” he said shortly; “not to-night.”
“Do you know what agitated my nephew so much?”
“Yes,” said the doctor; “but I am not at liberty to tell you.”
“I will not press you,” said Aunt Sophia gravely. “Lady Scarlett is with him now.”
She walked away; and after making sure that he would not be wanted, as has been said, Scales sought his room.
The night passed quietly enough; and in good time the doctor rose to take his morning walk about the grounds, when, as he returned, towards eight o’clock, he heard the grating of wheels upon the gravel, and saw the dogcart driven up to the door. He involuntarily drew back and stayed amongst the shrubs, just as Prayle came out quickly, with his coat over his arm, and thin umbrella in hand. His little portmanteau was handed in by the servant, and at a word, the groom drove off.