LITMIR.BIZ

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anville

      Blind Policy

      Chapter One.

      In Raybeck Square

      “Oh, you wicked old woman! Ah, you dare to cry, and I’ll send you to bed.”

      “No, no, auntie, don’t, please. What will dear Isabel think? You’re not going to spoil a delightful evening?”

      “Of course she is not. Here, old lady; have another glass of claret – medicinally.”

      Dr Chester jumped up, gave his sister and the visitor a merry look, took the claret to the head of the table and refilled his own glass.

      But the lady shook her grey sausage curls slowly, and elaborately began to unfold a large bordered pocket-handkerchief, puckered up her plump countenance, gazed piteously at the sweet face on her right, bent her head over to her charming niece on the left, and then proceeded to up a few tears.

      “No, no, no, Fred; not a drop more. It only makes me worse; I can’t help it, my love.”

      “Yes, you can, old lady. Come, try and stop it. You’ll make Bel cry too.”

      “I wish she would, Fred, and repent before it’s too late.”

      “What!” cried the doctor.

      “Don’t shout at me, my dear. I want to see her repent. It’s very nice to see the carriages come trooping, and to know what a famous doctor you are; but you don’t understand my complaint, Fred.”

      “Oh yes, I do, old lady. Grumps, eh, Laury?”

      “No, no, my dear. It’s heart. I’ve suffered too much, and the sight of Isabel Lee, here, coming and playing recklessly on the very brink of such a precipice, is too much for me.”

      The tears now began to fall fast, and the two girls rose from their seats simultaneously to try and comfort the sufferer.

      “Playing? Precipice?” cried the young doctor. “Step back, Bel dear; you shouldn’t. Auntie, what do you mean?”

      “Marriage, my dear, marriage,” wailed the old lady.

      “Fudge?” cried the doctor. “Here, take your medicine. No; I’ll pour you out a fresh glass. You’ve poisoned that one with salt water.”

      “I haven’t, Fred.”

      “You have, madam. I saw two great drops fall in – plop. Come, swallow your physic. Bel, give her one of those grapes to take after it.”

      “No, no, no!” cried the old lady, protesting. “Don’t, Laury;” but her niece held the glass to her lips till she gulped the claret down, and it made her cough, while the visitor exchange glances with the doctor.

      “I – I didn’t want it, Fred; and it’s not fudge. Oh, my dear Isabel, be warned before it is too late. Marriage is a delusion and a snare.”

      “Yes, and Bel’s caught fast, auntie. Just going to pop her finger into the golden wire.”

      “Don’t, my dear; be warned in time,” cried the old lady, piteously. “I was once as young and beautiful as you are, and I said yes, and was married, only to be forsaken at the end of ten years, to become a weary, unhappy woman, with only three thousand four hundred and twenty-two pounds left; and it’s all melting slowly away, while when it’s all gone Heaven only knows what’s to become of me.”

      “Poor old auntie!” said Laura Chester soothingly, taking the old lady’s head on her shoulder; but it would shake all the same.

      “I had a house of my own, and now I have come down to keeping my nephew’s. Don’t you marry, my poor child: take warning by me. Men are so deceitful.”

      “Wrong, auntie. Men were deceivers ever.”

      “I’m not wrong, Fred. You’ve been a very good boy to me, but you’re a grown man now, and though I love you I couldn’t trust you a bit.”

      “Thank you, aunt dear.”

      “I can’t, my love, knowing what I do. Human nature is human nature.”

      “Aunt dear, for shame!” cried Laura.

      “No, my dear, it’s no shame, but the simple truth, and I always told your poor father it was a sin and a crime to expose a young man to such temptation.”

      “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the doctor, boisterously. “Here, Bel dear, don’t you trust me.”

      The young people’s eyes met, full of confidence, and the old lady shook her head again.

      “I know what the world is and what men are,” she continued, “and nothing shall make me believe that some of these fashionable patients have anything the matter with them.”

      “Oh, you wicked old woman!” cried the doctor.

      “I’m not, Fred,” she cried angrily.

      “Oh yes, you are, old lady. You say I don’t understand your complaint; it’s conscience.”

      “It is not, sir. I’ve nothing on my conscience at all.”

      “I don’t believe you, auntie,” he cried banteringly. “You must have been a wicked old flirt.”

      “It is false, sir; and I don’t hold with doctors being young and handsome.”

      “No; I twig. Repentance. You used to go and see one when you were young, and give him guineas to feel your pulse.”

      “How can you say such wicked things, Fred?” cried the old lady, turning scarlet. “But I will say it now. I’m sure it’s not right for you to be seeing all these fine fashionable ladies, scores of them, every day.”

      “Do take her upstairs, Laury,” said the doctor, merrily. “Help her, Bel dear. You hear; I’m a horribly wicked man, and so fascinating that the ladies of Society flock to see me. Now, I appeal to you, dear. Did you ever hear such a wicked, suspicious old woman?”

      “Don’t, don’t, don’t, Fred,” sobbed the lady in question. “I only spoke for your good. But it can’t last long now; and when I’m dead and gone you’ll be sorry for all you’ve said.”

      “Poor old darling!” said the doctor, affectionately; “she sha’n’t have her feelings hurt. Now then, toddle up to the drawing-room. Lie down a bit; and have an early cup of tea, Laury.”

      “No, no, no,” sobbed the old lady. “I’m only a poor, worn-out, useless creature, and the sooner the grave closes over me the better.”

      She was out at the foot of the stairs, leaning upon her niece’s arm, before she had finished her sentence, and Isabel Lee, half troubled, half amused, was following through the door, which the doctor kept open, but he let it go and held out his hands, as the girl looked tenderly up a him. Then the door swung to, and the next moment she was clasped in his arms.

      “My darling!” he whispered; and then in the silence which followed they could hear faintly the voice of the old lady on the stairs.

      “I’m so sorry, Bel dear,” said the doctor tenderly. “She has one of her fits on to-day. Poor old soul, she has had a great deal of trouble.”

      “I know, Fred dear. I don’t mind.”

      “But it’s rather hard on our visitor, whom we want to entertain – queer entertainment.”

      “Don’t talk about it, Fred. Let me go now.”

      “Without any balm for the suffering, deceitful wretch? Just one.”

      “Well, only one. Come up soon.”

      It was, as the doctor said, a very tiny one, and then the girl had struggled free and hurried up to the drawing-room, while the giver went back to his seat.

      “Bless her! I honestly believe she’s the most amiable girl in the world,” said the doctor; as he sat sipping his claret. “Only a fortnight now, and then no more going away. I do love her with all my heart, and I say devoutly, thank God for giving me the chance of possessing so good a partner for life.”

      He sat sipping thoughtfully.

      “Bother the old woman!” he cried suddenly. “To break out like that. Suspicious as ever; but Bel took it the right way. I didn’t know I was such a Lothario. How absurd! Now about to-morrow’s engagements. Let’s see.”

      He

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