“We shall see when that time comes, love. Meantime, here is breakfast, and the sweet Sunday all before us?”
The pressure of her hand by her husband effaced all woes, present and future.
“Who is Mr Walcot?” asked Margaret.
“Somebody from Blickley, I suppose,” said Hester.
“No,” replied Hope. “Mr Walcot is a surgeon, last from Cheltenham, who settled in Deerbrook at seven o’clock yesterday evening, and who has already swept the greater part of the practice of the place, I suspect. He is, no doubt, the ‘better doctor,’ ‘the new man,’ of whom we have heard so much of late.”
Hester changed colour, and Margaret too, while Hope related the arrival of Mrs Rowland and her party, as he had heard it from his pupil early this morning.—What sort of man was Mr Walcot? Time must show. His coming to settle in this manner, at such a conjuncture of circumstances, did not look very well, Hope said; but it should be remembered that he must necessarily be extremely prejudiced against the family in the corner-house, if his information about Deerbrook was derived from Mrs Rowland. He ought not to be judged till he had had time and opportunity to learn for himself what was the real state of affairs in the place. He must have fair play; and it was very possible that he might turn out a man who would give others fair play.
At the next knock, Hester started, thereby showing that she was moved. Mr Jones had called to know how the family were; and, after satisfying himself on this point, had left a delicate sweetbread, with his respects, and wishes that Mrs Hope might relish it after her fright. This incident gave the little family more pleasure than Mr Walcot had yet caused them pain. Here was sympathy,—the most acceptable offering they could receive.
Next came a message of inquiry from Dr and Mrs Levitt, with an intimation that they would call, if not inconvenient to the family, after church. This was pleasant too.
While it was being agreed that a nurse must be found immediately for Maria, and that the glazier at Blickley must have notice to send people to mend the windows as early as possible to-morrow morning, a letter was brought in, which looked longer, but less grand, than Sir William Hunter’s. It was from Mr Rowland.
”(Private.)
“My Dear Sir, Sunday Morning, 7 o’clock.
“During the greater part of an anxious night, my mind was full of the intention of calling on you this morning, for some conversation on a topic which must be discussed between us; but the more I dwell upon what must be said, the more I shrink from an interview which cannot but be extremely painful to each party; and I have at length come to the conclusion that, for both our sakes, it is best to write what I have to say. It is painful enough, God knows, to write it!
“Your position here, my dear sir, must have been anything but pleasant for some time past. I regret that its uneasiness should have been augmented, as I fear it has, by the influence of any one connected with myself. My respect for you has been as undeviating as it is sincere; and I have not to reproach myself with having uttered a word concerning you or your family which I should be unwilling to repeat to yourselves: but I am aware that the same cannot be said with regard to every one for whom I am in a manner answerable. In relation to this unpleasant fact I can only say, that I entreat you to accept the assurance of my deep regret and mortification.
“A new aspect of affairs has presented itself,—to me very suddenly, as I trust you will believe, on my word of honour. A gentleman of your profession, named Walcot, arrived last night, with a view to settling in Deerbrook. The first inducement held out to him was the medical charge of Mrs Enderby, and of the whole of my family: but, of course, it is not probable that his expectations of practice among your patients stop here; and the present unfortunate state of the public mind of Deerbrook regarding yourself, makes it too probable that his most sanguine expectations will be realised. I write this with extreme pain; but I owe it to you not to disguise the truth, however distasteful may be its nature.
“These being the circumstances of the case, it appears to me hopeless to press the departure of Mr Walcot. And if he went away to-day, I should fear that some one would arrive to-morrow to occupy his position. Yet, my dear sir, justice must be done to you. After protracted and anxious consideration, one mode of action has occurred to me by which atonement may be made to you for what has passed. Let me recommend it to your earnest and favourable consideration.
“Some other place of residence would, I should hope, yield you and your family the consideration and comfort of which you have here been most unjustly deprived. Elsewhere you might ensure the due reward of that professional ability and humanity which we have shown ourselves unworthy to appreciate. If you could reconcile yourself to removing, with your family, I believe that the peace of our society would be promoted, that unpleasant collisions of opinions and interests would be avoided, and that that reparation would be made to you which I fear would be impracticable here. All difficulty about the process of removal might and should be obviated. To speak frankly, I should, in that case, consider myself your debtor to such an amount as, by a comparison of your losses and my means, should appear to us both to be just. I believe I might venture to make myself answerable for so much as would settle you in some more favourable locality, and enable you to wait a moderate time for that appreciation of your professional merits which would be certain to ensue.
“I need not add that, in case of your acceding to my proposition, all idea of obligation would be misplaced. I offer no more than I consider actually your due. The circumstance of the father of a large and rising family offering to become responsible to such an extent, indicates that my sense of your claim upon me is very strong. I should be glad to be relieved from it: and I therefore, once more, beseech your best attention to my proposal,—the latter particulars of which have been confided to no person whatever,—nor shall they be, under any circumstances, unless you desire it.
“I shall await your reply with anxiety—yet with patience, as I am aware that such a step as I propose cannot be decided on without some reflection.
“I rejoice to find that your family have not suffered materially from the outrages of last night. It was matter of sincere regret to me that the unexpected arrival of my family at the very time prevented my hastening to offer my best services to you and yours. The magistracy will, of course, repair all damages; and then I trust no evil consequences will survive.
“I beg my best compliments to Mrs Hope and Miss Ibbotson, and entreat you to believe me, my dear sir,
“With the highest respect,
“Your obedient servant,
“H. Rowland.”