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"I've visited the cottage often," Irechester interposed, "when various people had it, but I never saw any signs of the Tower being used." "It never was, I'm sure; and as for the grave, well, Alec, in country parts, to this day, you'd be thought a bold man if you filled up a grave that your neighbor had dug for himself, and such a neighbor as Captain Duggle!
I am afraid that I am putting you in a difficult and disagreeable position, but it seems to me that I have no alternative but to ask you to call on him professionally. I hope that Dr. Irechester will not be hurt by a whim which is, no doubt, itself merely a symptom of disordered nerves, for Dr. Irechester has been most attentive and very successful hitherto in dealing with the dear old gentleman.
Irechester " "Oh, with Dr. Irechester, dear Mr. Beaumaroy, you're all right!" He seemed troubled and embarrassed. "A most accomplished man, evidently, and a friend of yours, of course. But, well, there it is, a mere fancy, of course, but unhappily my old friend doesn't take to him. He, he thinks that he's rather inquisitorial. A doctor's duty, I suppose "
Irechester never found out what it was, though!" exclaimed Mary triumphantly. "No, he didn't; for reasons pretty clearly indicated in your narrative." He sat back in his chair, his elbows on the arms and his hands clasped before him. "If I may say so, the really curious thing is to find you in the thick of it, Doctor Mary." "That wasn't my fault. I couldn't refuse to attend Mr. Saffron. Dr.
Old Naylor did not see how it was to be done, or even hoped for; but the right kind of wife was unquestionably the best chance. He had cast a speculative eye on Cynthia Walford, Irechester had caught him at it, but, as he observed her more, she did not altogether satisfy him.
I'm far from making any complaint." He gave her a courteous little bow, but it was one which plainly closed the subject. Indeed he passed by her and joined a group that had gathered on the hearthrug, leaving her alone. So she stood for a minute, oppressed by a growing uneasiness. Irechester said nothing, but surely meant something of import? He mocked her, but not idly or out of wantonness.
"So do I; though, mind you, I'm not pretending that Irechester is a favorite of mine, any more than he is of my old friend's. Still, there it is. I've no right, perhaps, to press my question, but your opinion would be of real value to me." "I see no reason to think that he's not quite competent to make a will," said Doctor Mary.
Was that dishonesty, or only a pardonable diplomacy? "I suppose I must go, and explain to Dr. Irechester afterwards." She rang the bell, to recall the maid, and gave her answer. "Say I will be round as soon as possible. Is the messenger walking?" "He's got a bicycle, Miss." "All right. I shall be there almost as soon as he is." She seemed to have no alternative, just as Beaumaroy had none.
"The Rising Generation is very skeptical," said old Naylor. "You, of course, Penrose, believe the story?" "I do," said Mr. Penrose composedly. "I believe that a devil carried him off, and that its name was delirium tremens. We can guess, can't we, Irechester, why he smashed or burnt everything, and fled in mad terror into the darkness? Where to?
"She seems a nice little girl, that, and uncommon pretty," Naylor remarked. "Yes, but he's a queer fish, I fancy," the Doctor answered, also rather absently. Their minds were not running on parallel lines. "My boy a queer fish?" Naylor expostulated humorously. Irechester smiled; his lips shut close and tight, his smile was quick but narrow. "You're matchmaking. I was diagnosing," he said.
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