India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction
“In not so painful a one as it would have been, my dear, if he had
noticed the change himself, as he must have done, and asked for the
cause of it.”
Isobel stood twisting her fingers over each other before her nervously.
“But what am I to do?” she asked.
“I do not see that there is anything more for you to do,” the Doctor
said. “Mr. Bathurst may not be perfect in all respects, but he is
certainly too much of a gentleman to force his visits where they are
not wanted. I do not say he will not come here at all, for not to do so
after being here so much would create comment and talk in the station,
which would be as painful to you as to him, but he certainly will not
come here more often than is necessary to keep up appearances.”
“I don’t think you ought to have told him,” Isobel repeated, much
distressed.
“I could not help it, my dear. You would force me to admit there was
some truth in the story Captain Forster told you, and I was, therefore,
obliged to acquaint him with the fact or he would have had just cause
to reproach me. Besides, you spoke of despising a man who was not
physically brave.”
“You never told him that, Doctor; surely you never told him that?”
“I only told what it was necessary he should know, my dear, namely, that
you had heard the story, that you had questioned me, and that I, knowing
the facts from his lips, admitted that there was some foundation for the
story, while asserting that I was convinced that he was morally a brave
man. He did not ask how you took the news, nor did I volunteer any
information whatever on the subject, but he understood, I think,
perfectly the light in which you would view a coward.”
“But what am I to do when we meet, Doctor?” she asked piteously.
“I should say that you will meet just as ordinary acquaintances do meet,
Miss Hannay. People are civil to others they are thrown with, however
much they may distrust them at heart. You may be sure that Mr. Bathurst
will make no allusion whatever to the matter. I think I can answer for
it that you will see no shade of difference in his manner. This has
always been a heavy burden for him, as even the most careless observer
may see in his manner. I do not say that this is not a large addition to
it, but I dare say he will pull through; and now I must be off.”
“You are very unkind, Doctor, and I never knew you unkind before.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account