Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Inheritance and succession -- Fiction; Love stories
"Well, no, sir, I hardly think that. She has been very much agitated."
"Yes, of course; poor girl," said Wilton, quietly.
"But I think she will be better after a good night's rest, sir."
"So do I, Eliza. You will see, of course, that she has everything she
wants."
"Oh, yes, sir. I did take her up some dinner, but I could not prevail
upon her to touch it."
"Humph! I suppose not. That will do, thank you.--No, no, Maria, there
is no occasion to say any more."
Mrs Wilton's mouth was open to speak, but she shut it again quickly,
fearing to raise another storm, and the maid left the room. But the
mother would speak out as soon as they were alone.
"I should like to order a tray with one of the pheasants to be sent up
to Claud, dear."
"I daresay you would," he replied. "Well, I shouldn't."
"May I send for Doctor Leigh?"
"What for? You heard what the woman said?"
"I meant for Claud, dear."
"Oh, I'll see to him in the morning. I shall have a pill ready for him
when I'm cooled down. It won't be so strong then."
"But, James, dear--"
"All right, old lady, I'm getting calm now; but listen to me. I mean
this: you are not to go to his room to-night."
"James!"
"Nor yet to Kate's, till I go with you."
"My dear James!"
"That's me," he said, with a faint smile, "and you're a very good,
affectionate, well meaning old woman; but if ever there was one who was
always getting her husband into scrapes, it is you."
"Really, dear!" she cried, appealingly.
"Yes, and truly. There, that will do. Done dinner?"
"Yes, dear."
"Don't you want any cheese or dessert?"
"No, dear."
"Then let's go. You'll come and sit with me in the library to-night and
have your cup of tea there."
"Yes, dear, but mayn't I go and just see poor Kate?"
"No."
The word was said quietly, but with sufficient emphasis to silence the
weak woman, who sat gazing appealingly at her husband, whom she followed
meekly enough to the library, where she sat working, and later on sipped
her tea, while he was smoking and gazing thoughtfully at the fire,
reviewing the events of the day, and, to do him justice, repenting
bitterly a great deal that he had said. But as the time went on,
feeling as he did the urgency of his position and the need to be able to
meet the demands which would be made upon him before long, he grew
minute by minute more stubbornly determined to carry out his plans with
respect to his ward.
"He's only a boy yet," he said to himself, "and he's good at heart. I
don't suppose I was much better when I was his age, and excepting that
I'm a bit arbitrary I'm not such a bad husband after all."
At that moment he looked up at his wife, just in time to see her bow
gently towards him. But knowing from old experience that it was not in
acquiescence, he glanced at his watch and waited a few minutes, during
which time Mrs Wilton nodded several times and finally dropped her work
into her lap.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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