"So odd and peculiar," she sighed; "but so different to any one else I ever knew; and, ah me! how shocking it all is: so many people must have seen him come." VOLUME TWO, CHAPTER FOUR. DR LUTTRELL'S TROUBLES. Dr Luttrell had taken a rake, and gone down the garden, according to his custom, and, as soon as he had left the house, Mrs Luttrell went to the window and watched him; after which, with a sorrowful face, she walked back into the drawing-room, to sit down and weep silently for a few minutes. "It breaks my heart to see her poor sad face, and it's breaking his, though he's always laughing it off, and telling me it's all my nonsense. Oh, dear me! oh, dear me! How is it all to end?" She sat rocking herself to and fro for a few minutes, and then jumped up hastily. "It's dreadful, that it is!" she sighed; "but I can't stop here alone. Yes! I thought so!" she cried, as she went to the window, where she could catch sight of the doctor, rake in hand, but not using it, according to his wont, for he was resting upon it, and thinking deeply. Mrs Luttrell snatched at a great grey ball of worsted and her needles, and went down the garden, making the doctor start as she reached his side. "Eh? What is it?" he exclaimed. "Anything wrong at the Manor?" "Wrong! what nonsense, dear!" said the old lady cheerily. "I'm sure, Joseph, you ought to take some medicine. You grow quite nervous!" "What made you come, then?" he cried, beginning to use his rake busily. "Why, I thought I'd come and chat while you worked, and--Joseph, my dear, don't--don't look like that!" "It's of no use, old girl," said the doctor with a sigh; "we may just as well look it boldly in the face. I'm sick of all this make-believe." "And so am I, dear. Let us be open." "Ah, well! I will. Who is a man to be open to if not to his old wife?" "There!" sobbed Mrs Luttrell, making a brave effort over herself, and speaking cheerfully. "I'm ready to face everything now." "Even poverty, my dear?" "Even poverty! What does it matter to us? Is it so very bad, dear?" "It could not be worse. We must give up this house, and sell everything." "But Hallam?" "Is a scoundrel!--no, no! I won't say that of my child's husband. But I cannot get a shilling of him; and when I saw him yesterday, and threatened to go to Sir Gordon--" "Well, dear?" "He told me to go if I dared." "And did you go?" "Did I go, mother? Did I go?--with poor Milly's white face before my eyes, to denounce her husband as a cheat and a rogue! He has had every penny I possessed for his speculations, and they seem all to have failed." "But you shouldn't have let him have it, dear!" "Not let him have it, wife! How could I refuse my own son-in-law? Well, there, our savings are gone, and we must eat humble pie for the future. I have not much practice now, and I don't think my few patients will leave me because I live in a cottage." "Do you think if I went and spoke to Robert it would do any good?"