Meantime, the quick eyes and keen perception of Mr. Jeffries had revealed a circumstance which country church-wardens had not detected, and which Mr. Duncan’s increasing blindness had prevented him from seeing. The chancel was exceedingly out of repair, and Mr. Paine suggested that immediate application should be made to the lay-impropriator to remedy that evil now first pointed out. Mr. Duncan promised to take measures to that effect, and they all left the church together.
Charles came up to Hilary’s side as they did so, and rather detaining her behind the others, said, “Your eyes, Miss Duncan, have been questioning, ever since we arrived, who the individual now walking with your father is; he is an eminent French physician, a friend of mine, an oculist, I should rather say, whom I persuaded to come over here with me to-day, thinking that perhaps his advice might be of service to Mr. Duncan.”
Hilary colored deeply; she saw, or thought she saw at once, that this was another obligation under which Mr. Huyton had laid them; possibly he had only invited M. de la Récaille to ‘the Ferns’ in order to see and consult about her father’s sight. It was a positive pain to her to receive favors in their present relative situation; and while she felt she ought to be obliged for the kindness of the thought, she could not entirely suppress a
feeling of repulsion toward one who would heap benefits on her which she would rather have avoided.
“Do you think Mr. Duncan would mind my friend looking at his eyes?” continued Charles, watching her countenance attentively; “I was afraid of doing any thing disagreeable, so did not like to mention it to him without your leave; but M. de la Récaille is such an enthusiast in his profession, that he declares I can not oblige him more than by bringing new cases under his notice; that is the reason he accompanied me here to-day!”
This speech in some measure quieted Hilary’s mind; and after scolding herself in secret for being such a goose as to think that Mr. Huyton must be influenced by thoughts of her in all he did, she entered upon the subject more readily with him, and it was agreed that the suggestion should be made to Mr. Duncan.
“I am not afraid of hurting him,” continued Hilary; “for his resignation to whatever happens, is too deep to be shaken by an observation, a hope, or a decision of any man. I have not learned to view it so calmly yet,” her lip quivering as she spoke, “and can hardly discuss the subject—but, oh! if your friend could give us hopes—could tell us how to avert—” her voice was lost entirely, and Charles almost regretted that he had introduced the topic. However she recovered her composure again when M. de la Récaille spoke to her on the subject, inquiring particularly, methodically, and with great acuteness, all the symptoms of which she had ever been aware in her father’s case; what advice he had taken, and what remedies had been used. His quick, business-like questions, the manner in which he caught the meaning and point of her answers, stopping her from entering on useless details, and arranging all the facts which he elicited during his searching interrogatory, compelled her to use her utmost endeavors to meet his inquiries, to banish feeling and agitation, and to look only at facts in the same light as that in which he viewed them.
It was too late in the day, when they returned from the church, to be favorable for an examination at that time; and it
was finally settled that the gentlemen should proceed at once to Primrose Bank, conclude their investigations there, and return to Hurstdene the next morning; when Mr. Paine and the vicar could mutually make known their decisions concerning the curacy, and M. de la Récaille might carry out his wishes with regard to Mr. Duncan’s eyesight.
It was an evening of great trial to Hilary; hope for her father had entered her heart, and she could not bid its gentle whispers be still: but she dared not impart her fancies, or allow him to see how much she dwelt on the idea. He was as calm as ever; the notion of approaching darkness had become familiar to him, and he was so firmly convinced of the incurable nature of his complaint, that he would hardly have been disturbed had all the oculists in the kingdom promised him sight. She would not distress him with her agitation; her feelings must be smothered under an assumed appearance of calmness, but she could not approach the topic; and while her sisters were chattering gayly about the gentlemen whom they had seen that day, and describing again and again the personal appearance of all three strangers, never agreeing in details, nor feeling sure whether any pair of eyes were blue, black, or brown, Hilary smiled, and answered, and gave her opinion with almost her ordinary cheerfulness and readiness, while her heart was palpitating with excitement, and her mind at every leisure moment putting up secret petitions for patience, strength, and submission, whatever the result might be.