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Blind Policy. Fenn George Manville
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Автор произведения Fenn George Manville
Жанр Зарубежная классика
Издательство Public Domain
“Oh, Fred!” brought him back to the present.
“Eh? What’s the matter, dear?”
“Matter? Well, if ever I have a lover I hope he’ll be different to you. There’s auntie fast asleep, and poor Isabel sitting watching the door with the tears in her eyes.”
“Tut-tut-tut!” ejaculated the brother. “Yes; too bad, but I have a very serious case on hand, dear, and I am obliged to give it a great deal of careful consideration.”
“You’re always like that now, Fred,” said his sister, pettishly. “I hope you don’t mean to see patients on your wedding-day.”
“Oh, hang it! no, Laury. Here, I’ll come up and have some music; but you needn’t be so sharp, little one. Gentlemen are allowed to sit over their wine, and you haven’t been gone five minutes.”
“Monster!” cried Laura. “It’s over half an hour!”
“Oh!” ejaculated the doctor, “get out of the way.”
He dashed by his sister, and went up the stair three at a time to enter the back drawing-room where he was saluted by a snore from the sofa, and then passed through the folding-doors, his steps inaudible upon the soft carpet. He stood gazing tenderly at the picture he saw in a great mirror of a sweet, sad face resting upon its owner’s hand; and his conscience smote him as he saw that the eyes were indeed full of tears.
The next moment there was a faint cry of joy, and the face lit up, for he had stolen behind, sunk upon one knee, passed his arm round the slight waist, and was in the act of pressing his lips to those of his betrothed, when there was a gentle cough, and they started apart, to turn and see Laura’s head between the nearly closed folding-doors, with a mischievous look in her eyes.
“Oh, Bel! For shame!” she whispered merrily. “You don’t seem to take poor Aunt Grace’s words a bit to heart.”
“You come in and behave yourself,” said the doctor. “Don’t you begin making mischief.”
“I’m not coming in, Fred,” said the girl, saucily. “I don’t like to see such goings-on. Is that the way people make love?”
The doctor sprang up threateningly and made for the doors, but the head disappeared.
“She’ll never grow into a woman, Bel dear,” said the doctor, turning to her.
“Oh yes, I shall,” came from the door, as the head was thrust in again. “Now I’m going to sit with auntie till she wakes. Go on with your love-making, Daphnis and Chloe. Oh, I shall be so glad when you’ve both come to your senses again.”
This time the door closed with a click, and the doctor sank on his knee again by Isabel, and drew her to him fondly.
“Been thinking of what poor old aunt said, Bel?” he whispered, as her head sank upon his shoulder.
“No, not at all I only wanted you to come.”
“And you trust me fully?”
“Of course, Fred. You know I do.”
“And always will?”
“How can you ask me?”
“It is so pleasant to be told that you have the fullest confidence in your husband to be. Tell me you trust me.”
“It is insulting you, Fred,” said the girl gently as she gazed in his eyes. “How could I accept you if I did not know you to be the truest, bravest – Oh, Fred!”
“I was obliged to stop those flattering lips,” he said. “I’m vain enough of having won my darling, and – Oh, hang it!”
“I beg pardon, sir; I did knock,” said the servant. “Urgent, sir. A lady in your consulting-room.”
“All right; down directly,” said the doctor, who had started up. “I say, Bel darling, I must be more professional. You mustn’t lock me in your dear arms like this without you turn the key. I sha’n’t be long.”
Isabel Lee uttered a low sigh as her betrothed made for the door, and as he passed out there was the sound of voices in the back drawing-room, Aunt Grace having finished her nap.
“Who is it, Laury?”
“I don’t know, aunt dear; something urgent. Smith said a lady.”
“Another lady? and at this time of night?”
“People fall ill at all times, aunt dear,” said the girl, coldly. “Hush! don’t say any more please; Isabel will hear you.”
“But I can’t help it, my dear,” said the lady in a peevish whisper, every word of which reached the visitor’s ears. “Oh dear me, I wish Fred was not so good-looking. Well, it’s only another fortnight. I begin to think he ought to be married at once.”
Chapter Two.
A Strange Case
Two gloveless hands caught Dr Chester’s as he entered his consulting-room, and a strange thrill ran through him as a beautiful face, wild-eyed and agitated, was thrust close to his.
“Dr Chester? Oh, at last! Come – quickly! before it is too late.”
“Pray be calm,” he said, motioning his visitor to a seat, but she threw back her head.
“Come!” she cried imperiously. “The brougham is at the door. Quick! He is dying.”
“Pray explain yourself, madam,” said the doctor.
“Oh, how can you be so cold-blooded? Man, I tell you that Robert is dying. He must not – he shall not die. Come – come!”
“But, my dear madam!”
“I’ll explain everything as we go,” cried the visitor, passionately, as she drew him towards the door. “A terrible accident. Come and save his life.”
At another time Fred Chester might have hesitated, but there was a strange magnetism in the eyes of his beautiful visitor – an appeal in the quivering lip. Every feature was drawn by the agitation from which she suffered. It was his profession to help in emergencies – evidently some terrible crisis had arisen, and he felt it impossible to resist.
He threw open the door, there was a faint gasp of satisfaction as he caught up his hat, and the next moment, with his visitor holding still tightly by his hand, he was descending the broad steps, perfectly ignorant of the fact that Aunt Grace was standing at the top of the first flight of stairs, watching intently.
By the light of the gas lamps Chester saw a handsomely-appointed brougham drawn up at the kerb. His companion said the one word “Home,” then stepped quickly into the carriage, the doctor followed, and they were driven off at a rapid pace.
The night was dark, and it was by flashes of the lamps they passed that he had glimpses of the beautiful, quivering face leaning earnestly toward his. He was conscious of the delicate scent emanating from the dress; the warm perfumed breath reached his face, and there was, as it were, a magic in the contact with her rustling robe, as they sped along the streets. A wild intoxication seemed to have seized upon him in those moments, before he could master himself sufficiently to say —
“Will you explain the accident?”
“Yes, yes, as soon as I can speak,” was panted out. “I – I – ah – h – ah!”
The speaker lurched toward him, and he caught her, fainting, in his arms. But her strong will mastered the weakness, and she struggled free.
“Better now,” she panted. “Doctor, we had heard of you, I came myself. He is dying. Oh, faster – faster!” she cried, and leaning forward she beat upon the front window, there was a quick movement on the part of the driver, and the horses seemed to fly.
“It was like this. We were at dessert. Robert was examining a pistol. It went off, and he is horribly wounded. Dr Chester, oh, for Heaven’s sake, save my poor boy’s life!”
“With Heaven’s