“But, from what you tell me, there is no cause for pressing anxiety,” said Captain Chancellor. “Mr Laurence is not in a critical state?”
“There is no immediate danger, so at least the doctor assured me,” Gerald admitted. “But my own opinion is less favourable. I do not like this sudden feverish eagerness to see his daughter: it is quite unlike Mr Laurence. I confess, it made me very uneasy, and I dread the effects of the disappointment.”
Beauchamp smiled. There was a slight superiority in his smile. At another time it might have irritated Gerald as it did Roma, who had re-entered the room.
“I can’t say that I see any grounds for uneasiness in what you mention,” Beauchamp said. “Every one knows how fanciful sick people are. And as for the disappointment, there need be none, I hope. I shall see my wife’s medical man to-morrow, and, if he approves, I shall bring her over to Wareborough myself in a few days. A very different thing from acting without his approval.”
And with this, Gerald had to be content. There was reason in what Captain Chancellor said, but his evident consciousness of being the only reasonable one of the party made it all the more irritating to have to abide by his decision.
“Mr Thurston,” said Roma, when, for a moment, they were alone, just as he was leaving, “Eugenia asked me to beg you to forgive her not coming down again, and she told me too, to thank you ‘very, very much.’ And will you add to your kindness by writing to her to-morrow, and saying exactly how Mr Laurence is, and how he bore the disappointment.”
“Certainly I will,” said Gerald. “I will write to-night, if the post is not gone. Our post is late.”
“And,” added Roma, hesitatingly, “you will prevent their thinking it her fault. I mean, you will prevent their thinking her indifferent or careless, without, of course, blaming any one else, if you can help it.” She grew a little confused. “It is not a case in which any one can interfere, but oh, I am so sorry for her!” she broke out.
Mr Thurston’s eyes looked the sympathy he felt, but he did not say much.
“I think you may trust me,” he said at last. “I will try to explain it as she—and you—would like. And after all,” he added, by way of consolation, as he shook hands, “perhaps we are rather fanciful and exaggerated. I could not help thinking so when Captain Chancellor was speaking.”