Gothic fiction; Guardian and ward -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Orphans -- Fiction; Young women -- Fiction
There was an expression on Victor's face, as he said this, which seemed
involuntarily to indicate that the fact of Dr. Hugh's turning up here,
was just the most disagreeable fact that could possibly have transpired,
and so essentially "cute" a man as the doctor, could not have failed to
see it, but it did not seem in the least to interfere with his
complacency.
"How did I happen to turn up here? Why, my good fellow (as you said just
now), by the most natural process in the world. You see, after we
parted, a year ago, in the city"----
"Yes, yes," said Victor, hurriedly, and in a low tone, "I've got to look
after the smith now. You can tell me there."
And making some apology to me for the continued detention, he turned to
retrace his steps. The doctor followed, and passed his arm familiarly
through Victor's, at which I saw he winced, but did not attempt to
resent; and the doctor continued to talk to him in a low and
confidential tone. Twilight had already descended before the smith
pronounced the job completed, and Michael, backing up the horses, put
them to the carriage. While this was being accomplished, Victor and Dr.
Hugh, standing a few paces apart from the others, talked together, or
rather, the doctor talked and Victor listened with ill-concealed
impatience.
I could not hear a word that passed, but I could see that Victor was
suffering torture at the hands of the bland doctor, and his face, for
several minutes after he had parted from him and resumed his seat in the
carriage, wore an expression of pain and anger. We had started and
driven on for some distance before either spoke, and the first to break
the silence, I said, with more curiosity than courtesy:
"How in the world did you happen to know that detestable doctor? I
didn't suppose anybody had ever seen him before he came here."
"Detestable you may well call him," said Victor, below his breath, and
with a sort of groan. "I'd rather have met the arch-fiend himself!"
Then hastily remembering himself, he apologized, exclaiming, with a
laugh, that the fellow always put him out of temper, and bored him to
death, and he hoped he should never see him again, and he didn't mean to
trouble himself any further about him. With that last resolution, his
spirits rose, and in a few minutes he was as gay as ever. We were
dashing along at such an inspiriting pace, that no one could help
throwing dull care, and all things sad and gloomy, to the winds, and
being pro tem. in the highest spirits.
"I am sure you drive as well as you dance," said Victor, putting the
reins into my hands. "Let me see whether you know how to handle the
ribbons."
Put upon my mettle in that way, nothing could have induced me to have
declined the undertaking, though I happened to know a thing or two in
the early history of the bays that Mr. Viennet was evidently ignorant
of, and the recollection of which put a nervous intensity into the grasp
I had upon the reins.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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