"And would you say _Yes_, aunt dear, if he should ask me?"

"Before I answer that question, Naomi, my dear, let me ask you one. Is this little heart still sore about Arthur Prayle?"

"Indeed, no, aunt," cried the girl indignantly; "pray, don't mention his name. I am angry with myself for ever thinking of him as I did."

"Under those circ.u.mstances, my dear, it may be as well to ask you whether you would like to be married."

"Like to be married, aunt?--I--I--I think I should."

"When, then--when a man, who is perhaps rather too bluff and tradesman-like in his ways, but who loves very dearly, and is a thoroughly true honest gentleman at heart, asked me to be his wife, I think I should say _Yes_."

She was a good obedient girl, this Naomi, and most ready to obey her aunt and take her advice. So thoroughly did she act upon it, that the very next day, Saxby charged into the room where Aunt Sophia was writing a letter, caught her hands in his and kissed them, crying in the most exultant manner: "She's said it--she's said it!"

"What! has she refused you, Saxby?" said Aunt Sophia quietly.

"Refused me? No. Said _Yes_, my dear madam. Isn't it wonderful?"

"Well, I don't know," replied Aunt Sophia. "Do you think so?"

"That I do," said Saxby. "Oh, I am proud, Miss Raleigh, I am indeed; for though I'm an awfully big man on 'Change--away from Capel Court and my office, no one knows better than I do what a humbug I am."

"Don't be a goose, Saxby," said Aunt Sophia severely. "There; you see you make use of such bad language that it is catching. Humbug, indeed!

Look here, don't you say such nasty things again. If I had not known you to be a very good true gentleman at heart, do you think I should have encouraged your attentions as I have? Don't, say any more. She's a dear girl, Saxby; and I am very glad for both your sakes that it is to be a match."

"Oh, thank you!" he cried. "But mind this, Saxby; if ever you neglect or ill-use her--"

"If ever I neglect or ill-use her!" cried Saxby. "Well, well, I know you will not. And now, listen, Saxby. I mean to give Naomi for her dowry--"

"Nothing at all, my dear madam," cried the stockbroker, interrupting her. "I've plenty of money for both of us--heaps; and as for yours," he said, with a merry twinkle in his eye, "keep it for making investments, so that we can have a few squabbles now and then about shares."

"Now," said Aunt Sophia, "I daresay it is very wicked; but if I could see my dear Doctor Scales made as happy as Saxby, I should like it very much indeed.--What do you think, Kate? Can I do anything about him and Lady Martlett?"

"No, aunt; I think not," said Lady Scarlett. "And yet it seems to be a pity, for I am sure they are very fond of each other."

"It's their nasty unpleasant pride keeps them apart," said Aunt Sophia.

"Anna Martlett is as proud as Lucifer; and Scales is as proud as--as--as the box." For Aunt Sophia was at a loss for a simile, and this was the only word that suggested itself.

"Let them alone," said Lady Scarlett. "Matters may come right after all."

"But it's so stupid of him," cried Aunt Sophia. "Hang the man! What does he want? She can't help having a t.i.tle and being rich. Why, she's dying for him."

"But she sets a barrier between them, every time they meet," said Lady Scarlett.

"Yes; they're both eaten up with pride," cried Aunt Sophia. "Oh, if I were Scales, I'd give her such a dose!"

"Would you, aunt?"

"That I would. And if I were Anna Martlett, I'd box his ears till he went down on his knees and asked me to marry him."

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, you haven't seen master about, have you?"

said John Monnick.

"He went up to the house just now, Monnick."

"Because, if you please 'm, I've got him a splendid lot o' wums, and a box full o' gentles for the doctor."

"Ugh! the nasty creatures!" cried Aunt Sophia, with a shudder. "I hope they are not going fishing up by that weir."

"They are, aunt dear--for the barbel."

But they were not, for a messenger was already at the gate.

Just then, James Scarlett and the doctor came along the path, laden with fishing-tackle, on their way to the punt; but they were stopped by f.a.n.n.y, who came up with a letter in her hand, the poor girl looking very subdued and pale, and a great deal changed in manner since the events of a certain night--events that had, by Sir James's orders, been buried for ever.

"Lady Martlett's groom with the dogcart, and a letter for Doctor Scales, sir."

"Ha-ha-ha!" cried the doctor, with a harsh scornful laugh, which told tales to the thoughtful, as Aunt Sophia and Lady Scarlett came up.

"Here, Miss Raleigh, you see how I am getting on in my profession. Lady Martlett's pet dog has a fit, and I am honoured by her instructions.

Here: read the note, Scarlett."

"No, thanks; it is addressed to you."

The doctor frowned, and opened the note as he stood with his rod resting in the hollow of his arm, and his friends watched the change in his countenance. "Good heavens!" he exclaimed, with quite a groan. "Here, Miss Raleigh--read!" he thrust the letter into her hand, dropped the rod, and ran swiftly to the house, taking off his white flannel jacket as he ran; and a minute later they saw him in more professional guise beside the groom, who was urging the horse into a brisk canter as they pa.s.sed along the lane beyond the meadow.

Meanwhile Aunt Sophia had read the letter. It was very brief, containing merely these words: "I am very ill. I do not feel confidence in my medical man. Pray, come and see me.--Anna Martlett."

"Had we not better go over at once?" said Lady Scarlett eagerly; and the tears rose in her eyes.--"You will come, aunt?"

"Yes, of course, if it is necessary," said Aunt Sophia. "But had we not better wait till the doctor returns?"

Kate Scarlett looked up at her husband, who nodded. "Yes," he said; "I think aunt is right."

So they waited.

Volume 2, Chapter XV.

DITTO, AND--.

"This doesn't look professional," said the doctor to himself.--"Go a little more steadily, my man," he said aloud to the groom; and consequently the horse was checked into a decent trot. For John Scales wanted to grow calm, and quiet down the feeling of agony that had come upon him.

"She may want all my help," he thought. "Poor girl! Bah! Rubbish! A widow of thirty. Girl indeed! Well, I hope she's very bad. It will be a lesson to her--bring her to her senses. What an idiot I am! Here, my hand's trembling, and I'm all in a nervous fret. Just as if it was some one very dear to me, when all the time--When was your mistress taken ill, my man?"

"She's kep' her room the last fortnight, sir--not her bed; but she's seemed going off like for months and months. Hasn't been on a horse for a good half-year, sir, and hasn't been at all the lady she was."

By the time they reached the lodge-gates, which were thrown open by a woman on the watch for the returning vehicle, the doctor a.s.sured himself that he was perfectly calm and collected; but all the same there was a strange gnawing at his heart; and he turned pale at the sight of the prompt.i.tude with which the gates were opened. It seemed as if matters were known to be serious. This did not tend to make him cooler as they trotted along the beautiful avenue, and drew up at the great stone steps of the ancient ivy-grown mansion, with its magnificent view over a glorious sweep of park-land; neither did the sight of a quiet-looking butler and footman waiting to open the hall door lessen Scales's anxiety. His lips parted to question the butler; but by an effort he restrained himself, and followed him up to a room at the top of the broad old oaken staircase, before whose door a heavy curtain was drawn.

"Doctor Scales," said the butler, in a low voice; and as the doctor advanced with the door closing behind him, it was to see that he was in a handsomely furnished boudoir; while rising from a couch placed near the open window was Lady Martlett, looking extremely agitated and pale.

Her eyes seemed to have grown larger, and the roundness had begun to leave her cheeks; but there was no languor in her movement, no trace of weakness. Still she was sufficiently changed to break down the icy reserve with which the doctor had clothed himself ready for the interview.