“I’ll think it over,” said he. “I must be off now,” and he poked his finger toward the window, through which were visible his cob and gig; “they don’t leave me much time; but I’ll manage to be with you by nine this evening, and—and—I don’t care if we try that old Tom,” and the doctor winked comfortably at William. “We’ll be more to ourselves, you know; our rector’s all for tea. Good-bye, and I’ll turn it over carefully in my mind. I have an idea, but—but I’ll consider it—and—nine o’clock to-night, mind.”
Thus said the doctor as he climbed into his gig, and nodding over his shoulder to William Maubray, away he drove.
Like a restless soul as he was, William toiled hither and thither through the little town of Saxton with his hands in his pockets, and his looks on the pavement, more like an unfortunate gentleman taking his walk in a prison yard, than the proprietor of Gilroyd pacing the High Street of Saxton, where he ranked second only to Trevor, Prince of Revington.
Repose is pleasant, but that of Saxton is sometimes too much for the most contemplative man who is even half awake. There are in the town eleven shops, small and great, and you may often look down the length of the High Street, for ten minutes at a time, and see nothing in motion but the motes in the sunshine.
William walked back to Gilroyd, and paid himself as it were a visit there, and was vexed to find he had missed the rector, who had called only half an hour before. The loss of this little diversion was serious. The day dragged heavily. Reader, if you repine at the supposed shortness of the allotted measure of your days, reside at Saxton for a year or two, and your discontent will be healed.
Even Doctor Drake was half an hour late for his appointment, and William was very glad to see that pillar of Saxton society at last.
When they had made themselves comfortable by the fire, and the physician had adjusted his grog, and William had got his cup of tea by him, after a little silence the doctor began to ask him all sorts of questions about his health and sensations.
“I don’t think,” said William, “except perhaps my spirits a little, and my appetite perhaps, this thing has affected my health at all.”
“No matter, answer my questions,” said the doctor, who after a while fell into a mysterious silence, and seemed amused, and after a little time further, he expressed a great wish to remain and watch as on the former occasion.
“But,” said William, very glad of the offer, “the rector is not coming, and you would wish some one with you.”