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Yet there might no doubt be some ordinary cause for the change in Mr. Harding. Some vice, such as love of drink, or morphia, something that disintegrates a man, might have laid its claw upon him. That was possible. What seemed to Malling much more unaccountable was the extraordinary change in the direction of strength in Chichester.
Malling, no doubt, gave a certain amount of colour to the belief of those who chose to pry into their neighbours' affairs. "Anyway I don't think there is room for both Iredale and myself in the house," Grey went on heatedly. "If you didn't want him you should have put your foot down on your mother's suggestion. I don't think I shall come to-night."
"Since I saw you this morning," he said, "I find that I shall not be here next Sunday." He looked about the circle at his wife and Malling. "The doctor has ordered me away for a week, and I've decided to go." His introduction of the subject had been abrupt. As if almost in despite of themselves, Lady Sophia and Malling exchanged glances. Chichester said nothing.
In his view, I was altogether above criticism. And if I approached him with any sort of intimacy he was in the greatest joy. You know, perhaps, Mr. Malling, how the worshiper receives any confidence from the one he worships. He looks upon it as the greatest compliment that can be paid him. I resolved to pay that compliment to Henry Chichester.
"More than would be inevitable in any man in a couple of years. And now as to his digestive organs." "Good heavens!" exclaimed Malling. The apparent vagaries of his companion very seldom surprised him, but this time he was completely taken aback. "Are they what they were? Assuming, on your part, a knowledge of what they were."
"Yes; I've just bought all his stock for a Scotch client of mine." "Scotch?" Sarah turned away with a motion of disgust. "What, has George sold all his beasties at last?" exclaimed the farm-wife. "Why, yes. Didn't you know? He's giving up his ranch." Robb looked round the table in surprise. There was a pause. Then Mrs. Malling broke it "He has spoken of it hinted.
"You think the profession carries with it certain obligations," he said. "No doubt it does. But I shall never believe that one of them is to shut your eyes to any fact in the whole scheme of Creation. Harm can never come from truth." "If I could believe that!" Chichester cried out. "Do you mean to tell me you don't believe it?" Chichester looked at Malling for quite a minute without replying.
The kitchen doorway was suddenly filled with the ample proportions of Hephzibah Malling. She moved out into the open. She was carrying a large pail filled with potato-parings and other fragments of culinary residuum. A large white sun-bonnet protected her grey head and shaded her now flaming face from the sun, and her dress, a neat study in grey, was enveloped in a huge apron.
Malling was a prey to the wildest excitement. An event was about to happen which disturbed her to a degree. It is doubtful as to what feeling was uppermost in her motherly bosom. She was torn between many conflicting emotions joy, grief, pleasurable excitement.
As Malling came in he looked up and nodded. "Putting down all about Mrs. Groeber," he observed. "Anything new or interesting?" asked Malling. "Just the usual manifestations, done in full light, though." He laid aside his pen, while Malling sat down. "A letter from Flammarion this morning," he said. "But all about Halley's comet, of course. What is it?"
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