If there be any where in the world a striking instance of the fallen pride of humanity, a sick man affords the example.
When Ariana returned, Mr. Dormer was lying on the sofa, in the parlor, in his gay dressing-gown, having absolutely refused to go to his chamber and be regularly treated as a patient. Harriet stood by him with a wine-glass of medicine in one hand, and a saucer of sweetmeats in the other, trying to coax the invalid to swallow the dose she had so carefully prepared for him. The naughtiest of boys never made up such rueful faces, or protested more willfully against the disagreeable injunction.
“There’s no use,” he said at last, angrily; “I’d rather die than swallow such stuff.”
“But, dear Andrew, what could I do without you?” said the affectionate Mrs. Dormer, now almost in tears.
A sudden and violent pain made her husband inclined to change his resolution, and snatching the glass, he said, “There, give me the sweetmeats, quick.” With much writhing and choking, he swallowed a dose which one of his children would have taken without a murmur.
“What is the matter, Andrew?” asked Ariana, kindly, as she stepped to his side.
“Matter enough,” he replied, “my stomach is entirely ruined by the horrid messes on which I have been fed for the last month. A horse could not have stood the cooking to which I have been forced to submit.”
Mr. Dormer, after smoking his digestive organs out of order, in spite of the remonstrances of his friends, now actually believed that he was an injured man, victimised by a bad cook and a careless wife.
Such a miserable week as followed this scene had rarely fallen to Ariana’s lot, but she was really grateful to Mr. Dormer for his disinterested kindness to her, and relieved her sister of much trouble and care. Every day that detained the peevish patient from his business made him still more unreasonable and exacting. He would have been well much sooner if any one could have induced him to obey the orders of the physician. After a dose of calomel, he would insist on a hearty dinner of beef-steak, and when purposely kept in a low state to prevent the danger of fever, called loudly for wine or brandy, declaring that his wife would like nothing better than to see his strength so reduced that there could be no hope of his recovery.
The servants were so exhausted with his caprices that the chambermaid took French leave, and then Mrs. Dormer, who had double duty to perform, was taxed with inattention to his wants.