Dr Thorne - Anthony Trollope [167]
‘No; not for that: let her come merely that I may see her; that we may all know her. I will leave the matter then in your hands if you will promise me to do your best.’
‘But, my friend, in this matter I cannot do my best. I can do nothing. And, indeed, I may say at once, that it is altogether out of the question. I know –’
‘What do you know?’ said the baronet, turning on him almost angrily. ‘What can you know to make you say that this is impossible? Is she a pearl of such price that a man may not win her?’
‘She is a pearl of great price.’
‘Believe me, doctor, money goes far in winning such pearls.’
‘Perhaps so; I know little about it. But this I do know, that money will not win her. Let us talk of something else; believe me it is useless for us to think of this.’
‘Yes; if you set your face against it obstinately. You must think very poorly of Louis if you suppose that no girl can fancy him.’
‘I have not said so, Scatcherd.’
‘To have the spending of ten thousand a year, and be a baronet’s lady! Why, doctor, what is it you expect for this girl?’
‘Not much, indeed; not much. A quiet heart and a quiet home; not much more.’
‘Thorne, if you will be ruled by me in this, she shall be the most topping woman in this county.’
‘My friend, my friend, why thus grieve me? Why should you thus harass yourself? I tell you it is impossible. They have never seen each other; they have nothing, and can have nothing in common; their tastes, and wishes, and pursuits are different. Besides, Scatcherd, marriages never answer that are so made; believe me, it is impossible.’
The contractor threw himself back on his bed, and lay for some ten minutes perfectly quiet; so much so that the doctor began to think that he was sleeping. So thinking, and wearied with watching, Dr Thorne was beginning to creep quietly from the room, when his companion again roused himself, almost with vehemence.
‘You won’t do this thing for me, then?’ said he.
‘Do it! It is not for you or me to do such things as that. Such things must be left to those concerned themselves.’
‘You will not even help me?’
‘Not in this thing, Sir Roger.’
‘Then, by——, she shall not under any circumstances ever have a shilling of mine. Give me some of that stuff there,’ and he again pointed to the brandy bottle which stood ever within his sight.
The doctor poured out and handed to him another small modicum of spirit.
‘Nonsense, man; fill the glass. I’ll stand no nonsense now. I’ll be master in my own house to the last. Give it here, I tell you. Ten thousand devils are tearing me within. You – you could have comforted me; but you would not. Fill the glass I tell you.’
‘I should be killing you were I to do it.’
‘Killing me! killing me! you are always talking of killing me. Do you suppose that I am afraid to die? Do not I know how soon it is coming? Give me the brandy, I say, or I will be out across the room to fetch it.’
‘No, Scatcherd. I cannot give it to you; not while I am here. Do you remember how you were engaged this morning?’ – he had that morning taken the sacrament from the parish clergyman – ‘you would not wish to make me guilty of murder, would you?’
‘Nonsense! You are talking nonsense; habit is second nature. I tell you I shall sink without it. Why, you know I always get it directly your back is turned. Come, I will not be bullied in my own house; give me that bottle, I say!’ – and Sir Roger essayed, vainly enough, to raise himself from the bed.
‘Stop, Scatcherd; I will give it you – I will help you. It may be that habit is second nature.’ Sir Roger in his determined energy had swallowed, without thinking of it, the small quantity which the doctor had before poured out for him, and still held the empty glass within his hand. This the doctor now took and filled nearly to the brim.
‘Come, Thorne, a bumper; a bumper for this once. “Whatever the drink, it a bumper must be.” You stingy fellow! I would not treat you so. Well – well.’
‘It’s as full as you can hold it, Scatcherd.’
‘Try me; try me! my hand is