“Poor things,” said Alleyne, smiling. “I behave very badly to them, doctor, and worry them to death; but I am so lost in my studies that I neglect everything. They have made such sacrifices for me, and I forget it. I don’t see them—I don’t notice what they do. It was to humour me that they came to live in this desolate spot, and my poor mother has impoverished herself to meet the outlay for my costly instruments. It is too bad, but I am lost in my work, and nothing will ever take me from it now.”
“Nothing?” said Oldroyd.
“Nothing,” was the reply, given in all simple childlike earnestness, as the young doctor gazed straight into the deep full eyes that did not for a moment blanch. “So you will not give me pills and draughts, doctor,” said Alleyne at last, smiling.
“Medicine? No. Take exercise, man. Go more into society. See friends. Take walks. Garden. Make this desert bloom with roses.”
“Yes—yes—yes,” said Alleyne, thoughtfully. “I must try. Mr Oldroyd,” he said suddenly, “I should like to see more of you—if—if you would allow me.”
“My dear sir, nothing would give me greater pleasure. Here, I’ll come and garden with you, if you like.”
“I should be very grateful,” said Alleyne. “Give me your advice,” he continued, earnestly, “for I—I must live—I have so much to do—endless labour—and if I do not husband my strength, I—you are right: a man must take exercise and sleep. Mr Oldroyd, I shall take your advice, and—Hush, here they come.”
In effect, looking red-eyed, but perfectly calm now, Mrs Alleyne entered with Lucy, and the rest of the dinner passed off most pleasantly to Oldroyd, who was ready to accord that the poor, badly-cooked mutton was the most delicious he had ever eaten, and the vegetables as choice as could have been grown. Doubtless this was due to Lucy’s grateful glances, and the quiet, grave condescension with which Mrs Alleyne turned from her idol to say a few words now and then.
Even Alleyne himself seemed to be making efforts to drag himself back from the company of the twin orbs in space, or the star-dust of the milky way, to chat about the ordinary things of every-day life; and at last, it was with quite a guilty sensation of having overstepped the bounds of hospitality in his stay that Oldroyd rose to go.
“You will call and see us again soon, Mr Oldroyd?” said Mrs Alleyne, with the dignity of a reigning queen.