Mary of Marion Isle

Chapter VII Andrew's Farewell

Arabella went to the hospital, and, like Bottom, was translated. For the first time in her idle, aimless and luxurious life, she found herself with work to do and faced by real responsibility which called out innate qualities inherited from her vigorous and active–brained father. Soon she forget her own petty ailments in attending to the real illnesses of others, some of which, as it happened, were serious at the time. Also her natural talent for housewifery was given full scope and she used it to great advantage. Soon, like herself, that hospital was also transformed, so much so that it would have been difficult to recognise it as the same place. The meals were punctual and sufficient; the old women looked tidier and more cheerful, while the house by degrees attained to a perfect cleanliness. The only people who seemed dissatisfied with the change were the servants, two rather rough women who had acted as under–nurses. In course of time, however, even these became reconciled, since when once its back was broken, they found the work lighter than it had been before.

It must be admitted that there was another cause for this transformation, although of it Dr. Watson never knew. When Arabella took charge of the place she found the accounts in a sad state, also that expenditure had outrun income. Now Arabella was blessed with this world's goods and had a large balance at her bankers. So in some mysterious way that the doctor never quite mastered, very shortly income overtook expenditure and one of his great anxieties was removed.

Moreover, this paying guest made her influence felt in his own home. She became great friends with the amiable but vacuous Angelica, and in her spare time would assist her in the kitchen, for Arabella loved a kitchen. No longer did the gas stove prove a mystery measureless to woman; no longer was the tea an undrinkable essence or dinner a feast more movable than that of Easter. Only Rose, who viewed these changes with a kind of indolent disapproval, remained precisely the same, since she was one of those women who do not vary. She never had taken and never meant to take any trouble about anything, except her own comfort and personal appearance. To these she had always attended and to these she continued to attend. Between her and Arabella there was established a state of armed neutrality, superimposed upon a basis of cordial dislike. Each of them despised the other, but neither being warlike by nature, matters never proceeded to a state of open quarrel.

Soon Arabella came to understand that Andrew was the victim of a hopeless infatuation for Rose and notwithstanding her own secret tendresse for that young gentleman, accepted the situation with a sigh of pity for his fate. This partiality of hers did not escape Rose's acumen, with the result that her attitude to Andrew became more tender, since she desired to rivet his chains, and where he used to secure one kiss now often he was allowed three. Further, Rose did not attempt to conceal her intimacy with Andrew from Arabella, both because she knew this hurt her on a sore spot and also for a deeper reason. If Arabella thought her devoted to Andrew, she would not suspect her in any other direction.

As may be guessed, parental affection under these new circumstances induced Dr. Black to visit Red Hall much more frequently than he had done before it became the scene of Arabella's activities. In truth he was honestly delighted at the change in his daughter, which he looked on as little short of marvellous and indeed could not quite understand. Still, once having assured himself of this transfiguration, he was not selfish enough to wish to disturb her when she was engaged upon her duties at the hospital, as generally proved to be the case about tea–time, an hour at which the patients had to be prepared for bed and given their supper. Therefore he would take his tea at Red Hall and afterwards stop in for a few minutes' chat with his daughter at the hospital next door.

So, with the single exception of Rose, everyone was pleased, even Andrew, who now understood why Dr. Black continued to be so frequent a visitor at Red Hall, for had not Rose herself pointed this out to him?

Andrew's connection with the great Harley Street practice came to a sudden and unexpected end under the following circumstances. One morning when he was out seeing a patient who had been handed over to him as she had nothing the matter with her except nerves, Lord Atterton and his son Algernon were shown into Dr. Somerville Black's consulting–room. To him his Lordship explained that Algernon was suffering from a cough, so having heard the doctor highly spoken of, he had brought the young man to be prescribed for. Black, with veiled sarcasm, for his visitor's manner annoyed him, remarked that this was most kind of him. As a matter of fact he knew all about Algernon's case from Andrew, who had confided to him his fears of its issue and his grief at the manner in which it was being treated. However, this he kept to himself and proceeded to make an examination, engaging his patient meanwhile in shrewd general conversation calculated to reveal his habits and symptoms, although for the most part it seemed to be directed towards other subjects, till presently it was interrupted by a violent fit of coughing that seized Algernon, producing some blood from his lungs. When it was over, Dr. Black took him into another room and asked him to amuse himself for a few minutes with Punch and the Vie Parisienne while he made a few rough tests.

Algernon consented with a bad grace, for he was surly over the whole business and had been brought to the doctor against his will.

Then Black returned to the consulting–room where Lord Atterton addressed him before he could open his lips, saying:

"Of course I know that the boy has nothing serious the matter with him, although a conceited young fool of a nephew of mine, Andrew West, did try to frighten me about his state last autumn and gave unsolicited advice as to his treatment."

"Oh! Doctor West did that, did he? Well, although he is so young, I have some respect for his judgment and powers of diagnosis. He ought to be a big man in our trade one day."

"So you know him," said Lord Atterton somewhat surprised. "Anyway, it was pretty cool of him to set up his opinion against that of men like Smilie and Waite."

"Oh! yes, I know him pretty well; also I know Smilie and Waite very well, both of them. We doctors have a little rhyme about them, which I won't repeat to you. And now, my lord, since your time is even more precious than my own, do you want to hear what I believe to be the truth about your son, or do you want an opinion on the Smilie and Waite recipe, which, whatever else it does, will mean sundry more visits to this room and a considerable number of guineas into my pocket extracted in the best and most immaculate manner."

"I imagine that I pay you for the truth," said Lord Atterton stiffly.

"Very good. Then I grieve to have to tell you that I fear Doctor West was correct when he told you that your son's case is serious, exactly how serious I shall know in a day or two when certain investigations have been concluded. I can, however, state positively that he is in an advanced stage of what you would call consumption and that both his lungs are affected, also I think to some extent his throat. Further, I judge that his habits of life, I refer to the consumption of alcohol, are aggravating his complaint."

"How can you say that, Doctor, when both Smilie and Waite―"

"Forgive me, Lord Atterton, but if you want the opinions of those men, go to them and follow their advice, as I gather you have been doing. If you want mine, listen to it and be guided by it or not as you like. Or, if you have doubts on the matter of my competence, I will give you the names of several other men whose judgment is supposed to be the best in London where such cases are concerned, and you can check my verdict by theirs."

Now Lord Atterton's optimism began to fail him, for he felt that this big, uncompromising man was saying what he believed. His eyes blinked beneath the bushy eyebrows and his face fell in. For be it remembered that in his fashion he loved his son although he despised him, also that about him centred all the eager ambitions of, comparatively speaking, the newly rich and self–made man.

"What do you mean and what is to be done?" he asked fiercely.

"I mean," replied Black in a gentler tone, for his sympathy was stirred, "that unless your son changes his mode of life, especially with reference to alcohol, and gets out of this climate at once, say until June, he will, in my opinion, not live till June."

"Good God! And where is he to go? I sent him to the West of England, but he went out stag–hunting on Dartmoor, which he had promised not to do, and caught a chill."

"Perhaps South Africa would be best, but there is the Bay to cross where the winds are bitter just now. If he lives, and mind you I cannot guarantee that he will live, for the disease is very advanced and I understand there is a family history, ultimately he may have to live in that, or some similar climate. Meanwhile, I suggest that his best chance would be Egypt, which he can reach by Brindisi."

"How is he to go alone to South Africa or Egypt?" stormed Lord Atterton. "I cannot accompany him unless I sacrifice vital business interests and my duties in the House of Lords."

"It would be better than—going to heaven alone, Lord Atterton. But where money is no object, or a small one, surely that could be arranged. I suggest that we ask your son his own opinion on that point."

"I don't think he has any, but do what you like," replied Lord Atterton sinking into a chair, for he was overcome.

"Very good, but perhaps, if you don't mind, you will let me do the explanations."

So Algernon was called into the room and with wonderful gentleness, in a tone entirely different from that which he had adopted towards his father, Dr. Black explained to him as much of the position as he thought desirable. Now Algernon did not lack perception, or indeed courage of a sort.

"No need to wrap it up so nicely, Doctor," he said with a laugh, "for I quite understand. You mean that I drink too much, which I dare say I do, also that I shall die if I stop here, and very likely if I go away. Well, I don't care if I do die, for the world isn't a very pleasant place when you cough twelve hours out of the twenty–four and feel as weak as a cat until you get a bottle of champagne into you. However, I want to say this. If I have to go to Egypt, or any other damned hole, I won't do so alone. There's only one fellow I will go with, and—that's my cousin Andrew."

"Andrew!" burst out his father. "He is the very last person whom I should wish to be your companion. I dislike him extremely. Moreover," he added, forgetting himself in his anger, "he has a direct interest―"

Here Dr. Black looked at him and he stopped.

At this moment the door opened and Andrew himself walked into the room.

"Oh! I beg your pardon," he exclaimed, "I did not know that there was a consultation. The servant―"

"What is the meaning of this?" Lord Atterton asked acidly. "After all that has passed it looks like an arrangement."

"Please choose your words more carefully, Lord Atterton," said Dr. Black. "Doctor West is my assistant, and it was not I who introduced his name into this consultation."

"How do you do, Uncle?" broke in Andrew. "I didn't see who you were. And how are you, Algie, old fellow? Not very grand I am afraid from the look of you. But what's the matter?"

"I'll tell you, Andrew, as no one else seems inclined to do so," replied Algernon with a hoarse chuckle. "This is the position. The doctor there, I forget his name, says I am going to die unless I go to Egypt, at least that's what he means. I have answered that I won't go to Egypt unless you come with me. Otherwise I'll stop here and die, as being of full age I have a right to do, while my father doesn't want me to die, or you to go to Egypt with me. That's how it stands."

Andrew's face fell.

"Go to Egypt now," he said. "It wouldn't suit me at all. Besides," he added as a thought struck him, "I'm working here. I can't leave Doctor Black. It is out of the question."

"All right," said Algernon indifferently, "then I'll stop here and die, as I dare say I should do in Egypt and put you to the trouble of making a mummy of me," and again he chuckled.

"There are other doctors besides your cousin," interrupted Lord Atterton.

"I have no doubt there are, Father, lots of them. But I'm not taking any, and there's an end."

For a little while there was silence, for the impasse seemed to be complete. Black broke it, glancing at the clock.

"I haven't much time to spare," he said, "so I think we had better come to a decision about this business one way or another. It seems that we all have to give up something, except the patient, whose wishes must be respected, since otherwise he would derive no benefit from the change. Andrew West doesn't want to go to Egypt, I don't want to lose Andrew West whose services I find valuable. Lord Atterton does not wish him to be his son's companion for personal reasons of which I know nothing. Meanwhile, in the interests of the patient, which as I was always taught must be the first consideration, it is desirable, unless my judgment is at fault, that he should go and that his cousin should accompany him. Do I put the case fairly?"

"I suppose so," grunted Lord Atterton.

"Very well. Then for my part I will arrange to dispense with Doctor West's services for the necessary time of absence, say till the end of May, since it would be well that the journey home should be broken at Algeciras, or some such place, of course on a business basis which I could arrange with you, Lord Atterton, since I repeat I consider them valuable to myself, also to you and your son."

Lord Atterton grunted again, and Algernon, who could see a point, grinned visibly.

"Well," went on the doctor, "that's my share of the sacrifice. Now then, Andrew West, are you ready to make yours and go for a tour in the Near East for the sake of your cousin, although I gather that you do not wish to do so?"

Andrew hesitated, for the thought of the adored Rose pulled at his heart–strings. Then he glanced at poor Algernon's pinched face and noted that he was watching him with a kind of whimsical expectancy, or rather hope, and hesitated no longer. How could he set his private desires against the welfare of his cousin of whom he was really fond, when he knew that this cousin's life might hang upon his decision.

"Oh! yes, though I don't want to, I'll go, as it is Algernon's wish and your advice, Doctor," he said briefly.

Algernon smiled—he had a smile of singular sweetness—and remarked more to himself than to the company:

"I thought he would, but all the same it is good of old Andrew."

"Very well," went on Black. "Two stumbling–blocks are out of the way. Now, what do you say, Lord Atterton, for you're the paymaster, you know, and seem to have prejudices?"

"I—I―" exclaimed his Lordship, growing suddenly red in the face and even up to his bald head, for he was not accustomed to being cornered in this fashion. "Oh! confound it! Have your own way. I wash my hands of the business."

"Are you sure that you would not first like to consult Doctor Smilie, or Doctor Waite, or some other man?"

Lord Atterton shook his head, for he would not trust himself to speak.

"Very well then, my lord. If these two young gentlemen will leave the room and talk over their prospective journey, you and I will go into a few business details."

So Algernon and Andrew went, and presently through a window saw Lord Atterton strut into the waiting brougham, and heard him snap out the word "Home."

"Hullo," said Algernon, "he must be in a rage, for he don't even mean to give me a lift back. I expect your friend, the doctor, has stuck him pretty well for your valued services, old boy."

As a matter of fact he had, for shortly afterwards Black informed Andrew with one of his big laughs that he would be five hundred guineas the richer for that job, adding, "of course, I told him that the money went into my account, as you were working on a salary, and so it will. But it won't stick there. He called it extortion, for though that noble lord is said to be very comfy, he don't like parting with cash, even where his son is concerned. But all the same I got the cheque before he left, with three guineas for the consultation thrown in."

The following afternoon Andrew made a very melancholy pilgrimage of farewell. Evidently rumours of his departure, or rather knowledge thereof, had reached Red hall before him, since he found Rose awaiting him alone in the sitting–room.

"I was sure you would come," she said in a tearful voice, "so I gave up my engagement and did not go out."

"That is very sweet of you," said the adoring Andrew, embracing her.

She disengaged herself gently and went on:

"What is this I hear about your going abroad with some cousin who is ill? You know Angelica is friends with that funny landlady of yours, Mrs. Josky―"

Here Andrew started, for the information explained much which he had never been able to understand.

"She went this morning to buy something at her little shop where she gets most of her peculiar garments, and Mrs. Josky, who was almost in tears, told her that you were leaving England at once."

"Well, dear, it is true," answered Andrew. "I have a cousin whose lungs are shaky and must be got to Egypt until the summer comes. We used to see a good deal of each other when we were boys and he is rather fond of me" (here Rose managed to convey with a look that this did not surprise her), "and has taken it into his stupid head that he won't travel with anyone else. So you see I thought it my duty to go, although it breaks my heart to part from you."

"How noble of you!" murmured Rose.

"Nonsense, dear. Sometimes one must do things, that's all. Anyway, I have passed my word, and there's an end, for a person who breaks a promise deserves never to be spoken to again. Don't you agree with me?"

"Of course," exclaimed Rose with enthusiasm.

"If I broke my word to my cousin," continued Andrew in his most exalted manner, "although I confess I feel much tempted to do so, how could you ever trust me again, for instance? Why, you might think, and quite rightly, that perhaps I should do the same thing to you, whereas I want your confidence in me to be as boundless as mine is in yourself, darling."

"Of course you do," repeated Rose, wishing her heart that Andrew would descend from this high moral horse. It bored her when he talked like that, as he was too fond of doing. Such sentiments, she felt, should be reserved for servants, also she heard more than enough of them from her own father.

"Besides," proceeded Andrew, "I am only to be away for about three months, which, although you may think it so, as I do, isn't an eternity. And then, there is the money side of the matter to be considered, which is important to you and me."

"Indeed," said Rose, now really interested, "and what about the money side?"

"Well, this. My cousin has a rich father who is in trade, in the liquor line in fact, and Doctor Black has charged him a very heavy fee for my services. This he says he means to hand over to me, which is just like his generosity."

"Yes," said Rose, and involuntarily her hand went to her throat, where beneath her high dress was hidden a pearl necklace that she dared not wear openly. "How much is he going to pay you?"

"Five hundred guineas."

"That's a lot," said Rose, opening her eyes. "They must think a great deal of you."

"Too much," replied Andrew, "but I didn't make the bargain. If it had been left to me I shouldn't have asked anything. Still, it is fortunate, isn't it, dear? You see, when I come back, as the doctor is going to keep my place open, I shall be in a position to marry you."

Rose coloured most becomingly and whispered, "Yes."

"We might begin in a small way," went on Andrew, ecstatically. "Mrs. Josky has two more rooms at the top of the house, and she would make you very comfortable and soon grow as fond of you as she is of me."

Rose looked doubtful, she could not help it, and to change the subject asked:

"What is your cousin's name?"

"Oh! the same as my own, West," answered Andrew absently.

"Indeed? I thought all the Wests were gentlefolk."

He laughed as he replied:

"Then you are quite mistaken there, dear. Their origin was humble enough, and some of them have not forgotten the manners and customs of their forbears. Money can't make a gentleman, Rose."

"No, Andrew, but it can do a great deal, can it not?"

Ignoring her question, Andrew turned to more congenial topics. In poetic language and with a touching fervour, he assured her that he would think of her all day and most of the night, that he would never look at another woman, except to assure himself of the depths of difference between her and his adored, that he would count the minutes which lay between them and reunion, that he would write to her every day, although he gathered from the postal guide that the mails only left Egypt twice a week.

"Do you think that would be wise, dear, although it is so nice of you? You see, Sister Angelica is all the virtues rolled into one, but she is very prying and takes in the letters."

"Damn Sister Angelica!" exploded Andrew, adding, as he remembered Mrs. Josky's dark hints, "I believe she has made enough mischief already."

Rose wondered what he meant, but thinking it best not to probe the recesses of her adorer's simple mind, inquired instead of another matter.

"Do you think that Miss Black intends to stay at the hospital?"

"I expect so," answered Andrew indifferently. "It is doing her a lot of good and her old father is delighted with the change in her; also your father thinks her work excellent, and says he never knew what comfort was before—I mean in the hospital. But why do you ask?"

"My father does not live in the hospital," replied Rose with an admixture of sweetness and acerbity that somehow reminded Andrew of the taste of an acid drop, "and I ask because if so, it makes me still more certain that it would not be wise for you to write to me too often. She also is very curious, and—you silly Andrew—has it never occurred to you as possible that I am not the only woman who likes you a little?"

"What on earth do you mean? Oh! I see," he added, colouring, "though it is all bosh. Why, she's several years older. Well, I could send the letters to Mrs. Josky."

"Who would probably open them over the kettle and afterwards deliver them through Sister Angelica," commented Rose.

"Well, what do I care if she does?" expostulated Andrew who felt himself being enveloped in a kind of net of feminine wiles. "I have nothing to be ashamed of in my letters and I don't see the use of all this secrecy, or quite understand why you wish it. Why shouldn't I go to your father and tell him? Taking everything into consideration, although I know I am unworthy of you, I am in a position to ask a man for his daughter's hand."

"Of course you are, dear, but hush! there is somebody coming."

"Let them come," said Andrew heroically, but Rose only moved further away and turned up the gas.

Then the door opened and there entered Arabella and Dr. Watson, talking with evident interest about the affairs of the hospital.

"Fancy, Father," said Rose, ignoring Arabella's presence, "Doctor West has come to tell us that he is going at once to Egypt in charge of a patient."

"Is he?" replied Watson. "Then all I have to say is that it is another instance of the truth of the old axiom, that the gods favour the young, for I suppose that the patient will pay expenses. Here am I, who all my life have been longing to get to Egypt and never found a chance of doing so, while it drops into his mouth, who perhaps would just as soon stop at home. Anyway, I congratulate you, Andrew, and hope that you will make the best of your opportunities. Did you say that the tea was coming, Miss Black?"

"I will go to see," interrupted Rose.

"It is not necessary," said Arabella in her precise voice. "Sister Angelica is just bringing it up. Indeed, I made it myself while she cut the bread and butter."

"You are becoming the angel of the house," interposed Dr. Watson gallantly and smiling in his gentle fashion, "isn't she, Rose?"

"Angels are difficult to define; there are so many sorts of them," replied Rose, her wits quickened in an inward fire of indignation. She did not want to bother about the tea herself, but that this other woman should do so was, she felt, almost an insult. Then she glided from the room on a quite unnecessary journey concerning that meal.

It proved a short one, since she met Angelica in the narrow passage and had to return in front of her. During tea Arabella contrived entirely to monopolize Andrew, discoursing to him of Egypt and begging him to write to her and to tell her all about its wonders, and whenever she ceased speaking for a moment Dr. Watson took up his parable which had to do with ophthalmia and other Eastern diseases, so that Rose was left in the cold. At length the doctor bade him good–bye and good luck very warmly and went away.

But Arabella did not go away; on the contrary, whether by accident or design, she sat there like a rock and embarked upon an argument on Socialism, on which she was growing enthusiastic, the doctor evidently having infected her with his cult. Now Andrew also had leanings that way, but as at the moment he desired to practise another kind of Socialism à deux, very earnestly did he wish that Arabella would reserve her views for a more fitting occasion, especially as he must leave within a quarter of an hour to keep a professional appointment which could not possibly be neglected. First he tried answering in monosyllables and then took refuge in silence, but Arabella, who had not forgotten Rose's remarks as to the different angelic degrees, would not be put off. In an even, monotonous voice she favoured him with a summary of one of Dr. Watson's lectures on his favourite topic, and as Andrew had heard it and knew that it was long, he could only sit still and watch the hands of the clock.

Now at first Rose was grateful to Arabella who, unwittingly, was protecting her from demonstrations with which she found it a little difficult to deal. By degrees, however, her indignation awoke, as she came to understand the nature of the manoeuvre and that its real object was to rob her of her lover's farewell words. Yet, as she could not tell Arabella to leave the room, there was nothing to be done except to sit still also and hate her more heartily than usual.

At length came the inevitable moment when Andrew must go, since otherwise he would miss the consultation of which he had to make report to Dr. Black.

"I can't stay any longer," he said, springing up in despair. "Good–bye, Miss Black. I hope that when I return I shall have found that you have followed the scriptural injunction and divided all your goods among the poor. Do you mind coming outside a moment, Miss Rose? I have a private message which I want you to give to your father," an announcement at which Arabella smiled sarcastically.

Rose hesitated, then gave way, as in fact she always did when Andrew insisted upon anything, because it was easiest.

Andrew slammed the door behind them both and there followed some hurried and broken endearments in the passage which, although they did not know it, proved very interesting to Sister Angelica listening intently from the gloom of a landing upstairs.

As a matter of fact these demonstrations were somewhat one–sided, since Rose merely stood still, occasionally murmuring words that might have been spoken in Esperanto, for any meaning they possessed. Andrew thought that she was assenting with passion to all he said and promising to marry him immediately on his return, but on these points Rose's conscience was clear, for as she reflected afterwards, not without a certain virtuous satisfaction, she had really said nothing at all, or at any rate nothing that could be twisted into a compromising promise.

Indeed, as he rushed away shouting for a hansom cab, it even occurred to Andrew himself that he had no exact recollection of the language in which she had conveyed her deathless vows. However, he concluded that this was because of his own extreme agitation and that doubtless it was all right. How could it be otherwise, though he did wish that she had given him just one kiss in return for the many that he had showered upon her. Of course this was because her sweet modesty intervened, but still, although it was brutal of him, and even coarse, he did wish it very much.

His last words were to implore her to come to see him off at the train and to give her very definitely the name of the station and the hour, asking her if she had mastered them.

She answered, "Yes, yes," but whether these affirmatives conveyed that she would be there, or that she had committed these topographical and chronological details to her memory, he could not be sure.

Thus did Andrew, with an aching heart, part from his first love, the woman whom he adored with all the blind passion of an ardent nature and who was destined to deal him the deadliest blow a man can receive in his youth.

When he met her again she was differently circumstanced.