England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; Short stories, English
"I wish she would get better!--she does give me so much concern," warmly
spoke madame. "Not that I think her seriously ill, myself. I'm sure I do
everything for her that I possibly can."
"Yes, yes, my dear lady, you cannot do more than you do," replied
Arnold. "I will be up in better time to-morrow."
"Is Captain Collinson here?" I stayed behind Dr. Knox to ask.
"Captain Collinson here!" returned Madame St. Vincent, tartly, as if
the question offended her. "No, he is not. What should bring Captain
Collinson here?"
"I thought he might have called in upon leaving Mrs. Knox's. I only
wished to tell him that he dropped his watch-key next door. It was found
on the grass."
"I don't know anything of his movements," coldly remarked madame. And as
I ran back to Dr. Knox, I remembered what Dan Jenkins had said--that she
did not like the captain. And I felt Dan was right.
Dr. Knox drove home in silence, I sitting beside him, and Thomas in the
perch. He looked very grave, like a man preoccupied. In passing the
railway-station, I made some remark about Miss Cattledon, who was coming
by the train then on its way; but he did not appear to hear me.
Sam Jenkins ran out as we drew up at Mr. Tamlyn's gate. An urgent
message had come for Dr. Knox: some one taken ill at Cooper's--at the
other end of the town.
"Mr. Tamlyn thinks you had better go straight on there at once, sir,"
said Sam.
"I suppose I must," replied the doctor. "It is awkward, though"--pulling
out his watch. "Miss Cattledon will be due presently and Janet wanted me
to meet her," he added to me. "Would you do it, Johnny?"
"What--meet Miss Cattledon? Oh yes, certainly."
The conveyance drove on, with the doctor and Thomas. I went indoors
with Sam. Janet said I could meet her aunt just as well as Arnold, as I
knew her. The brougham was brought round to the gate by the coachman,
Wall, and I went away in it.
Smoothly and quietly glided in the train, and out of a first-class
carriage stepped Miss Cattledon, thin and prim and upright as ever.
"Dear me! is that you, Johnny Ludlow?" was her greeting to me when I
stepped up and spoke to her; and her tone was all vinegar. "What do
_you_ do here?"
"I came to meet you. Did you not know I was staying at Lefford?"
"I knew _that_. But why should they send you to meet me?"
"Dr. Knox was coming himself, but he has just been called out to a
patient. How much luggage have you, Miss Cattledon?"
"Never you mind how much, Johnny Ludlow: my luggage does not concern
you."
"But cannot I save you the trouble of looking after it? If you will get
into the brougham, I will see to the luggage and bring it on in a fly,
if it's too much to go on the box with Wall."
"You mean well, Johnny Ludlow, I dare say; but I always see to my
luggage myself. I should have lost it times and again, if I did not."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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