CHAPTER XVI.
BUSY DAYS.
"Rely upon it, the spiritual life is not knowing or learning, butdoing. We only know so far as we can do; we learn to do by doing; andwe learn to know by doing; what we do truly, rightly, in the way ofduty, that and only that we are."--_Rev. Frederick Robertson_.
When Alwyn heard that Greta was downstairs, he brightened perceptibly."She is a dear creature," he said; "except in looks she has not changeda bit. She used to be rather a pretty girl,--interesting-looking, thatwas the word for Greta; but she is very graceful still. Will you givemy love to her, Mrs. Luttrell? I shall hope to see her to-morrow orthe next day," and then he turned wearily on his pillow, as thoughtalking were too great an effort.
The following afternoon Greta came earlier; but, as she was unable tostay long, Olivia found an opportunity of going round to MayfieldVillas.
It was just in the gloaming,--Aunt Madge's rest hour, as she calledit,--and there was unmistakable gladness in her voice, when Olivia'stall figure appeared on the threshold. "Welcome, welcome, littlestranger," she said, merrily; "do you know, Livy, that you have playedtruant for four whole days. I was just thinking of sending Deb roundthis evening to know if anything were the matter. Oh, I see," as herbright, penetrating glance read her niece's face. "You have somethingwonderful to tell me. Draw up your chair and I will be as quiet as amouse. I am a splendid listener, as my dear Fergus used to say."
"Something wonderful," repeated Olivia, breathlessly. "Why, AuntMadge, I feel as though I were in the third volume of a sensationalnovel. What do you think? Robert Barton, whom Marcus found starvingon a doorstep, is Mr. Gaythorne's long-lost son, Alwyn."
It was evident that Mrs. Broderick was intensely surprised, for shequite flushed up with excitement.
"Go on. Tell me everything from the beginning. I will not interrupt,"she said, quickly, and Olivia, nothing loath, gave a graphic account ofthe afternoon at Galvaston House.
"Is it not grand, Aunt Madge?" she finished, but Mrs. Broderick's voicewas not so steady as usual as she answered,--
"So the blessing has come to him, and he will have his heart's desire;but there is a heavy load laid on him, too, poor, stricken man. Oh,Livy, we must just pray for him until he is able to pray for himself."
"His brain is really much clearer to-day," returned Olivia; "he spokequite sensibly to Marcus, only his speech is a little affected. Heasked why his son had left the house, and then Marcus told him that hewas weak and needed rest, and that I was taking care of him.
"'Crampton will see that he has all he requires,' he said, and Mrs.Crampton came over of her own accord last night. Do you know, AuntMadge, I felt so ashamed of her seeing him in that bare little room,and I tried to explain to her that it was only a sort of disused lumberroom, but she soon made plenty of suggestions for his comfort. She hassent a pair of thick curtains for the window, and a big rug that nearlycovers the floor, and a softer mattress and another pillow. And nowthe room looks so cosy. Marcus quite stared when he went up thismorning. It was quite touching to see Mr. Alwyn with her. He actuallykissed her and called her his dear old 'Goody.' I find she has livedwith them ever since they were quite children. I think she was Olive'snurse. And the fuss she made over him, calling him her 'poor, ill-usedlamb.' It almost made me cry to hear her."
"Poor fellow, he has certainly had his fill of husks."
"Yes, indeed; but Mrs. Crampton is determined to kill the fatted calfnow. The things she sends over would feed half a dozen prodigalsons,--game and soups, and jellies and fruit. She says her master hasgiven her _carte blanche_, and that the doctor has laid a great stresson nourishment, so of course we can say nothing."
"Well, Livy, your life is not exactly stagnant just now."
"No, indeed; but, oh, there is one thing I forgot to tell you. Marcushas another patient,--that is number five. Actually the surgery bellrang twice yesterday."
Mrs. Broderick clapped her hands. Then she said, in a teasing voice,"Are you not glad that you kept Martha?" and Olivia laughed.
"Why, Aunt Madge," she said in an amused tone, "Marcus actuallyproposed this morning that we should get an older and more capableservant, but I told him I would rather work twice as hard than partwith Martha; she is such a good, willing little soul."
"Of course, as long as Mr. Alwyn keeps his room we shall have plenty ofrunning about, and Dot is cutting some more teeth, and is ratherfretful, so our hands are full; but the only thing that troubles me isthat I see so little of Marcus. He is out most of the evening, eitherat Galvaston House or in Brunswick Place. Alas, things are no betterthere, and if this influenza epidemic comes on, as the doctors predict,he will have a busy spring."
"No doubt, but as we have only to live one day at a time, we will nottrouble our heads about that. Well, you have given me food enough forsome days. I shall send Deb round to-morrow evening to inquire afterthe invalids, but you must not come again until you are more atleisure. Teething troubles and the care of a sick man are enough forany woman."
"Dear Aunt Madge!" exclaimed Olivia, affectionately. "If I could onlybe as unselfish as you. I do believe you never think of yourself atall."
"Nonsense," returned Mrs. Broderick, "I am an old bundle ofselfishness. Well, I shall be thinking of those two poor things. Myheart aches for that young man, but I pity his father, too. I wasreading about the deaf man with an impediment in his speech thismorning; it is the lesson for to-day, you know, and I could not helppondering for some time on those words, 'Jesus took him apart from themultitude.' Just as though quiet and stillness were needed for thehealing. I think that is the lesson that sickness teaches us; the poorsufferer is led apart to wait for the word of healing; sometimes hewaits long, but the time has not been lost. 'Lord, it is good for usto be here;' I think some of us will say that when our painfulsojourning at the Mount of Suffering is over. Yes, it is good for usto have drunk of His cup without complaining."
Aunt Madge's eyes had a dreamy look in them; the beautiful voicevibrated in Olive's ear like music; but as she stooped to kiss her,somewhat awed by her unusual solemnity, the old kind smile returned toher lips.
"Good-bye, Livy darling, my love, and congratulations to Marcus."
Olivia was putting a good face on things, but Marcus, oppressed withthe heavy responsibility of three serious cases, hardly knew how hardshe worked from morning to night. Dot, feverish and fretful, wasalways wanting to be in her mother's arms. Martha, with all herwillingness, was too young and inexperienced to be a very efficienthelp; so, although Olivia always wore a bright expression when Marcuscame in for his meals, and chatted to him in her old cheerful way, shewas often too weary to sleep.
It was a relief, therefore, when Alwyn was able to leave his room andlie on the couch downstairs. Greta's afternoon visits were then a realboon; she could leave them together while she went out and did herbusiness.
Olivia's healthy, robust constitution always needed fresh air andregular exercise. Confinement to the house tried her, and the smallrooms and low ceilings at No. 1, Galvaston Terrace, were certainlyrather cramping. Half an hour's brisk walk always refreshed her andacted like a tonic. She would look in at Mayfield Villas for tenminutes and give her report of the invalids, and then come back to tealooking so fresh and invigorated that Alwyn once told her that she wasas good as a whiff of moorland air.
Alwyn was slow in recovering from that terrible shock. His nerves hadsuffered severely, and at times his restlessness and depression weresad to see.
"If he could only be reconciled to his father," Greta would sigh; "butthe thought of another interview seems to terrify him. He is sopainfully morbid," she went on, "and distrusts himself. He is afraidof saying and doing the wrong thing; somehow he seems to have lost allfaith in his father's love."
"'I long for his forgiveness. I know that I have been a bad son,' hesaid, yesterday. 'But he will never believe in my penitence.' Oh, itis dreadful the way he talks and works himself up."<
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"Marcus says it is a good deal owing to nervous exhaustion," returnedOlivia; "but he is very sorry for him. Mr. Gaythorne has begged morethan once to see him; he is evidently craving for a sight of him, butMarcus dare not bring them together yet. Mr. Gaythorne is only justable to sit up, and he is very weak. And then while Mr. Alwyn is inthis nervous state he is hardly to be trusted."
"Yes, we must be patient, I suppose. I have perfect faith in Dr.Luttrell's opinion," and then her manner changed, and she said,mournfully, "Do you know how badly he thinks of father? He is afraidhe will never leave his bed again."
"Yes, I know; and Dr. Bevan agrees with him. Poor Greta, I am so sorryfor you," and she laid her hand affectionately on her shoulder.
"Yes, but I dare not murmur," returned the girl, in a low voice. "Itwould be more merciful to let him die than linger on in suffering,and"--with a little burst of feeling--"the disease that is killing himhas not been brought on by his own fault. Oh, the gratitude I feltwhen Dr. Luttrell said that it has been latent in the system, and thatonly lately Dr. Bevan suspected it. But, oh, dear Mrs. Luttrell, donot wish him to live. No one who cared for him could wish it."
"Poor child. Yes, I know; Marcus explained things to me."
"He is quite himself," went on Greta, drying her eyes. "And so dearand affectionate, but it hurt me so to hear him asking my pardon forthe life he had led me. 'I have not deserved such a good daughter,' hesaid over and over again. 'Since your poor mother died you have beenmy one blessing.'"
"Dear Greta, you will let these words comfort you?"
"Oh, yes; I was repeating them in my dreams all night. When he wastalking to me I felt that I had got the old father back. What do youthink, Mrs. Luttrell? he actually asked me if I should go on living atBrunswick Place when he was gone, and then it came into my head to tellhim about Ivydene, and he was so interested. I am sure he was pleasedwhen I told him that I should like to go back there. He actuallywanted me to write to the lawyer about it. But when he saw how shockedI was at the idea, he said perhaps we had better wait a little."
Olivia thought over this conversation when Greta left her; her heartached for the lonely girl. When Marcus came in a few minutes later, heseemed struck with her unusual gravity.
"Is there anything wrong, Livy?" he asked. "You seem in the doldrums."And as she smiled and shook her head, he continued cheerfully, "I amglad to hear it. Do you know I have actually a free evening until ten?I feel as though I was a schoolboy again, and had an unexpectedholiday. In my opinion, only busy people know how to enjoy a holidayproperly."
"And I am really to have you to myself for three whole hours," andOlivia's face beamed with delight. As Marcus drew his chair to thefire and took up the long-neglected book, Greta's troubles went intothe background.
"Oh don't read just now," she said, imploringly; "let us talk a littlefirst, Marcus, is it very naughty of me? but once or twice during thelast few days, when you have been too busy to stay with me, or to playwith Dot, I have thought that even prosperity will have itslimitations; that being a successful doctor means that I shall see fartoo little of you."
Then Marcus drew back his head with one of his boyish laughs.
"Oh, Livy, what a child you are! have you just found out that? Howdelightfully illogical a woman can be! It stands to reason that Icannot be in two places at once."
"Oh, of course your patients will want you, and I am not reallygrumbling. Do you suppose that I shall not be proud of your success?I was only trying to tell you that, in spite of all our difficultiesand little petty troubles, I have been perfectly happy."
"Especially on Saturday evenings, when you totted up your little redbook, and the balance was always on the wrong side. I have seen youpull an uncommonly long face on those occasions. I am not quite sureabout the perfect happiness then." Then, as Olivia lookedreproachfully at him, his teasing manner changed.
"Dear Olive," he said, tenderly, "I am not really laughing at you. Iunderstand quite well what you mean. I am not such an old married manthat I cannot appreciate a compliment like that, when my wife tells mewith her own lips that my society can sweeten even poverty and hardship.
"You are quite right, love; prosperity will have its limitations; thesepleasant evening hours will often have to be sacrificed. But in allprofessions we must take the rough with the smooth. We must just putour shoulder to the wheel, you and I, and 'Doe the nexte thinge,' eh,Livy?"
"Oh, yes," she answered, eagerly, "and yours is such a grand work. Ihave always been so thankful you are a doctor. When I was quite youngI used to tell mother that I wanted to marry a clergyman. But I thinka doctor comes next. Oh, Marcus, did you ever read Whittier's verseson this subject? Greta brought me his poems and read them to me. Ithink I know the last two verses by heart,--
"'Beside the unveiled mysteries Of life and death go stand With guarded lips and reverent eyes And pure of heart and hand. The good physician liveth yet Thy friend and guide to be, The Healer by Gennesaret Shall walk thy rounds with thee.'"
And as Olivia repeated the lines in a voice tremulous with deepfeeling, Dr. Luttrell's firm lips unbent with a moved expression.
"That is beautiful," he said. "I think those words ought to beilluminated and hung up in every doctor's waiting-room."
"'The Healer by Gennesaret Shall walk thy rounds with thee.'"
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