You have changed your mind so often that of course you may change it again. I am sure that Imogene expects that you will. Indeed I can hardly believe that you intend to be such a Quixote. But at any rate I have done my duty. She is old enough to look after herself, but as long as she lives with me as my sister. I shall tell her what I think; and until she becomes your wife -- which I hope she never will be -- I shall tell you the same.
Yours truly MUDBURY DOCIMER
"He always was a hard, unfeeling fellow," said Frank to himself.
Then he put the letter by with a crowd of others, assuring himself that it was one which required no answer.
On the afternoon he called at the house, as he did again on the Tuesday; but on neither day did he succeed in seeing Imogene.
This he thought to be hard, as the pleasure of her society was as sweet to him as ever, though he was doubtful as to his wisdom in marrying her. On the Wednesday morning he received a note from her asking him not to come at once because Mudbury had chosen to put himself into a bad humour. Then a few words of honey were added; "Of course you know that nothing that he can say will make a change. I am too well satisfied to allow of any change that shall not come from you yourself." He was quite alive to the sweetness of the honey, and declared to himself that Mudbury Docimer's ill-humour was a matter to him of no concern whatever.
But on the Wednesday there came also another letter -- in regard to which it will be well that we should travel down again to Merle Park. An answer altogether averse to the proposed changes as to the nieces had been received from Mrs Dosett. "As Ayala does not wish it, of course nothing can be done." Such was the decision as conveyed by Mrs Dosett. It seemed to Lady Tringle that this was absurd. It was all very well extending charity to the children of her deceased sister, Mrs Dormer; but all the world was agreed that beggars should not be choosers. "As Ayala does not wish it." Why should not Ayala wish it? What a fool must Ayala be not to wish it! Why should not Ayala be made to do as she was told, whether she wished it or not? Such were the indignant questions which Lady Tringle asked of her husband.
He was becoming sick of the young ladies altogether -- of her own girls as well as the Dormer girls. "They are a pack of idiots together," he said, "and Tom is the worst of the lot." With this he rushed off to London, and consoled himself with his millions.
Mrs Dosett's letter had reached Merle Park on the Tuesday morning, Sir Thomas having remained down in the country over the Monday.
Gertrude, having calculated the course of the post with exactness, had hoped to get a reply from Frank to that last letter of hers -- dated from her sick bed, but written in truth after a little surreptitious visit to the larder after the servants' dinner -- on the Sunday morning. This had been possible, and would have evinced a charming alacrity on the part of her lover. But this she had hardly ventured to expect. Then she had looked with anxiety to the arrival of letters on the Monday afternoon, but had looked in vain. On the Tuesday morning she had felt so certain that she had contrived to open the post-bag herself in spite of illness -- but there had been nothing for her. Then she sent the dispatch which reached Frank on the Wednesday morning, and immediately afterwards took to her bed again with such a complication of disorders that the mare with the broken knees was sent at once into Hastings for the doctor.
"A little rice will be the best thing for her," said the doctor.
"But the poor child takes nothing -- literally nothing," said Lady Tringle, who was frightened for her child. Then the doctor went on to say that arrowroot would be good, and sago, but offered no other prescription. Lady Tringle was disgusted by his ignorance, and thought that it might be well to send up to London for some great man. The doctor bowed, and made up his mind that Lady Tringle was an ass. But, being an honest man, and also tender-hearted, he contrived to get hold of Tom before he left the house.
"Your sister's health is generally good?" he said. Tom assented.
As far as he knew, Gertrude had always been as strong as a horse.
"Eats well?" asked the doctor. Tom, who occasionally saw the family at lunch, gave a description of his sister's general performance.
"She is a fine healthy young lady," said the doctor. Tom gave a brother's ready adhesion to the word healthy, but passed over the other epithet as being superfluous. "Now, I'll tell you what it is," said the doctor. "Of course I don't want to inquire into any family secrets.""My father, you know," said Tom, "won't agree about the man she's engaged to.""That is it? I knew there was some little trouble, but I did not want to ask any questions. Your mother is unnecessarily frightened, and I have not wished to disturb her. Your sister is taking plenty of nourishment?""She does not come to table, nor yet have it in her own room.""She gets it somehow. I can say that it is so. Her veins are full, and her arms are strong. Perhaps she goes into the kitchen.
Have a little tray made ready for her, with something nice. She will be sure to find it, and when she has found it two or three times she will know that she has been discovered. If Lady Tringle does send for a physician from London you could perhaps find an opportunity of telling him what I have suggested. Her mamma need know nothing about it." This took place on the Tuesday, and on the Wednesday morning Gertrude knew that she had been discovered -- at any rate by Tom and the doctor. "I took care to keep a wing for you," said Tom; "I carved them myself at dinner."As he so addressed her he came out from his hiding-place in the kitchen about midnight, and surprised her in the larder. She gave a fearful scream, which, however, luckily was not heard through the house. "You won't tell mamma, Tom, will you?" Tom promised that he would not, on condition that she would come down to breakfast on the following morning. This she did, and the London physician was saved a journey.