Olivia hesitated to repeat her visit to Galvaston House, and when she consulted Marcus he advised her to wait a little.
"We must not be too pushing. I daresay one of these days Mr. Gaythorne will send you another message. He is rather ailing and out of sorts just now, and inclined to bristle up at a word," but, though Marcus laughed in this way, he had not found his berth an easy one.
Mr. Gaythorne was often irritable, and the least contradiction—even the assertion of an opinion—would ruffle him. Once, when Marcus had proposed discontinuing his evening visits, Mr. Gaythorne had appeared quite affronted.
"If I can afford to pay for medical advice, I suppose I may be allowed to have it," he had returned, testily. "Of course, if your time is too valuable——"
But Marcus, flushing at the covert sneer, answered, in his quick, straightforward way:
"I wish it were more valuable; but as I have no wish to pick your pocket, I thought it would be only honest to tell you that the evening visit is no longer necessary."
"Very well, then we will regard it in the light of a luxury," returned Mr. Gaythorne, a little less grimly. "By-the-bye, Dr. Luttrell, I want to ask you if you will kindly let me have your account at the end of the month. Monthly payments are my rule, if it will not inconvenience you."
Marcus assured him he was quite ready to meet his wishes.
Olivia, who had few amusements, often thought longingly of that beautiful winter garden, and wished to revisit it. She had described it so vividly and graphically to Aunt Madge, that Mrs. Broderick declared she could picture it exactly. She was never weary of hearing her niece's description.
"I feel as though my world were enlarged, and that I had got a new friend," she said one day, and Olivia was amused to hear that the faded flowers had been carefully pressed.