CHAPTER XII.
GRETA.
"For I am the only one of my friends that I can relyon."--_Appolodamus_.
Olivia set out in good spirits to pay her call the next afternoon. Itwas a clear, frosty day, sunless and excessively cold, but Olivia felta certain exhilaration in the ring of the horses' hoofs on the hardroad, and the brisk exercise brought such a glow to her face, that morethan one passer-by looked at her approvingly.
There are no cosmetiques so beneficial as good health, happiness, andan easy conscience. Olivia, who had never been handsome, looked sofresh and comely, that many a languid beauty might have envied her.
Brunswick Place was considered rather a desirable spot; it was quietand retired, and the houses were well-built and substantial looking.They were chiefly inhabited by solicitors in good practice, and retiredarmy men who had private means of their own. The very air was redolentof respectability and prosperity. No one with a small income wouldhave thought of settling down in Brunswick Place.
The man-servant who admitted Olivia ushered her into a large,handsomely furnished drawing-room with a conservatory opening out ofit, and the next moment Miss Williams joined her.
To her great surprise Olivia recognised her at once. She was the tallgirl in brown that she had so often noticed in church, who was alwaysalone, and who looked so sad. Yes, it was the same tired-looking youngface, she was certain of it.
"I am sure I have often seen you," she said, as they shook hands, andMiss Williams smiled.
"I was just thinking the same of you. You attend St. Matthew's, do younot? I have seen you with Dr. Luttrell. Please sit down--no, not thatchair. Come a little closer to the fire, it is so bitterly cold," andhere she shivered a little.
"I do not mind the cold as much as some people," replied Olivia,sturdily. "I am very strong and take plenty of exercise. Perhaps youhave not been out; it is so difficult to keep warm indoors."
"No, I have not been out," returned Miss Williams, and then she lookedat Olivia. "It is very kind of you to come and see me--Mrs. Luttrell."
She spoke slowly, almost deliberately, but her voice was pleasant. Inher light tweed, she looked even taller than Olivia had thought her,and very thin.
In spite of her pale complexion and want of animation, Miss Williamshad some claims to good looks. She had soft grey eyes, with remarkablylong lashes, and the coils of fair hair set off a finely shaped head.
"My husband thought that you seemed rather lonely," returned Olivia, inher usual straightforward fashion. Then a faint colour rose to MissWilliams's face.
"Yes, it was so kind of him to propose it, and I was very grateful. Isuppose he told you that I had no friends--no one, I mean, that I couldask to come in and sit with me a little. I know the next-door peopleslightly. We call at intervals, and they have invited me to a party,but I have never got beyond that. It has been difficult for me to makefriends. I am rather shy--and----" here she broke off rather awkwardly.
"I think I know what you mean," replied Olivia. "When one is introuble, one wants real friends, not chance acquaintances, and if onehas not made them----"
"Just so--that is precisely my case. Circumstances have been to blame,for I think I am sociable by nature. Dr. Luttrell was very quick; heunderstood at once, and he said it was not good for me to be so muchalone. Oh, he was such a comfort to me. Even the first moment he didnot seem like a stranger. I felt before half-an-hour was over that Icould trust him implicitly. And when he suggested yesterday that youshould come and cheer me up, I said yes at once."
"I was very glad to come," replied Olivia, quickly. "Like yourself, Ihave no friends here, with the exception of another patient of myhusband's, an old gentleman who lives opposite to us. So I hope youwill let me be of some use to you. You know," after a moment'shesitation, "Dr. Luttrell is not one to talk about his patients, but hetold me a little about your trouble."
"So I imagined, and of course it makes it easier for me." And hereMiss Williams's lips trembled slightly. "You could not help me or beany comfort without knowing a little. Oh, Mrs. Luttrell, is it notdreadful? My poor father, and such a good father, too. He is justkilling himself, I know that."
"And you are all alone?"
"Yes, since my mother died. Things were bad enough then, but they havebeen worse since. She used to be able to influence him and keep himstraight, but he will not listen to me."
"Have you had this to bear long?" and Olivia looked at her pityingly.What a life for a young, sensitive girl!
"For some years. Ever since Dacre, my brother, died. It was a boatingaccident, and they brought him home quite dead. We thought it was theshock, but Dr. Bevan, who attended him, then told us that it was duealso to hereditary disease. We dared not send for Dr. Bevan the othernight, though he understood him so thoroughly, and was so kind. Myfather had quarrelled with him, but Dr. Luttrell saw him yesterday andthey had a long talk."
"My husband always speaks so highly of Dr. Bevan."
"Yes, and I liked him so much. He was such a comfort to me when poormother died, and I shall always be grateful to him, but I dared not runthe risk of exciting my father. He is a little better today; Dr.Luttrell says so; but of course he is coming again to-night. We have agood nurse, so things are more hopeful, but I shall have to get rid ofour man. He is no use. Dr. Luttrell says I must have someone olderand more reliable, who can help in an emergency. Roberts is far tooyoung to be any real good."
Olivia listened and assented. She was quick-witted enough to see thatit would be better to let Miss Williams talk and unburden herself alittle. The girl, in spite of a naturally shy temperament, seemedready to open her heart to her. Perhaps Olivia's winning personalityhad already won her. Human nature is so strangely constituted--thelaws of attraction and repulsion are so unaccountable.
Some natures seem magnetic; they attract and draw us almost without ourown volition. With others we make no way, months and years ofintercourse will not bind us more closely. We are not on the sameplane.
Olivia's sympathetic manner, the pitying kindness in her eyes, appealedstrongly to Greta Williams, the lonely girl--isolated by the worstcurse that can affect humanity--grievous hereditary vice--the innocentscape-goat of another's sin. Alas, how many homes even in our favouredland are desolated as well as desecrated from this one cause. Whatpiteous waste of sweet young life, crushed under unnatural burdens.The sin of England, we say--the shameful curse of diseasedself-indulgence.
Greta Williams seemed patient by nature; though it was a relief to talkopenly to another woman, she did not complain. In spite of herfather's faults, he was evidently very dear to her.
"It is a disease--a madness," she said once, "but it would never do tohave young people here; one could not be sure, and for his sake it isbetter not," and in these few words there lay a world of tragedy.
To love, and yet not to be sure that the object of our love will notdisgrace us. What misery to a refined and sensitive nature, to have toblush and grow pale from very shame and terror; to stretch out ahelping hand to some dear one who has sunk too low to reach it. Ah,only One, the All-merciful, can rightly gauge the anguish of such asorrow. No wonder Greta Williams looked so worn and pale, and that hereyes had grown sad.
"He is worse than he has ever been," she whispered, presently. "Dr.Luttrell does not tell me, but I know he was alarmed for him thatnight. He has been so much better lately," she went on, with a littlesob in her throat. "I had felt almost comfortable; not quitecomfortable, you know, because it never really lasted, but he liked meto read to him, and we played chess; but now"--her voice dropped intoweariness--"I shall never feel quite easy again."
Olivia had long ago outstayed an ordinary conventional visit; butMarcus had sent her for a purpose: she was to try and cheer, and, ifpossible, comfort, this poor girl, so, when Greta rang for tea, shesimply stayed on, and towards the end of her visit she thought heryoung hostess looked a shade brighter.
"You will com
e and see me," she said when she rose to take leave; butMiss Williams hesitated.
"Will you forgive me if I do not return your call just now? I simplydare not leave the house. You understand, do you not, Mrs. Luttrell?but if you would be so very kind as to come again."
"Most certainly I will come again; did you think that I should not?but, dear Miss Williams, you must not shut yourself up too closely, oryour health will suffer."
But Greta only smiled faintly at this.
"I shall tell Dr. Luttrell that you have done me good," she said,pressing Olivia's hand; "how strange it seems--there is no cure forsuch a trouble as mine, and yet telling you about it has seemed to makeit more bearable. Oh, please come again soon--very soon," and ofcourse Olivia readily promised this.
It was rather a disappointment on her return to find Marcus had been infor tea and had gone out again. Robert Barton, who was reading by thefire, said that he would not be back for an hour or two.
"Have you had a pleasant afternoon, Mrs. Luttrell?" he asked, puttingdown his book, and trying to stifle a yawn; but, though Olivia repliedin the affirmative, she did not vouchsafe any information about hervisit.
When Marcus returned two hours later, he found their guest had betakenhimself to bed, and Olivia was able to give him a graphic account ofher afternoon.
"I am very much interested in Miss Williams," she observed presently;"fancy her turning out to be the very tall girl in brown at St.Matthew's."
"Did your ears burn just now, Livy," observed Marcus, mischievously."I am glad to find someone appreciates my wife properly; you seem tohave got on like a house on fire; well, you will be doing good workthere."
"She said you were rather alarmed about her father that first night."
"Did she? I never said so," he returned, dryly; "in some cases it isbest to reserve one's opinion; but of course at Mr. Williams's age itis a grave matter;" then he drew his chair closer to the fire. "Life'san awful muddle, Livy, as that man said in _Hard Times_; fancy theloneliness of a young creature like that; why, she cannot be more thantwo- or three-and-twenty, and her lawful protector drinking himself todeath."
Olivia shuddered, her own young life had been anxious and hardworking;but compared with Greta Williams it had been strewn with roses. Couldany parents have been more honoured than hers had been? And then hadshe not always had Aunt Madge's wise counsel and sympathy to aid her?and, lastly, had not the sunshine of a happy love glorified it? ButMiss Williams apparently had none of these things.
"Not more than others I deserve, but God has given me more," shethought, with a swelling heart, as she made her thanksgiving that night.
In spite of outside weather, there was plenty of life and movement inthe corner house at Galvaston Terrace. The next day Mr. Barton beganhis sketch of Dot, and he soon became so absorbed in it that he seemedto forget his weakness and lassitude.
Olivia watched the progress of the picture with intense delight, andcarried a favourable report of it on her next visit to Galvaston House.
"It is a striking likeness of my little girl," she said. "Even myhusband, who is not easy to please in such matters, allows that. Heowned yesterday that Mr. Barton is certainly a good artist, andunderstands his business. I like to watch him? he looks so happy whenhe is painting, as though he has forgotten all his troubles; he isstaying with us a day or two longer on account of the picture, but hewill certainly leave us on Thursday."
Mr. Gaythorne did not answer; he seemed to be considering something; atlast he said, rather abruptly:
"Yes, Dr. Luttrell has been telling me what a clever fellow he seems,and I think I shall get him to do a little job for me.
"That picture I bought at Stangrove's wants touching up; it has beeninjured; I knew that when I bought it; but it was so slight that it didnot matter, and I meant to get it put to rights. If I send it overto-morrow or the next day, do you think Mr. Barton will undertake thejob? it will only take him an hour or two."
"He will gladly do so, I am sure of that. Is it the picture that myhusband admired so much?"
"Yes, the Prodigal Son; I bought it that day I sprained my ankle. Verywell, Mrs. Luttrell, it shall be sent to your house."
Doctor Luttrell's First Patient Page 12
