Complete Works of Wilkie Collins (1750 page)

‘Not exactly, in words, dear. But if you had seen how he looked at me — ’

‘Nonsense! He must be made to speak out — and I will help you to do it. I want a perfect bonnet for the flower-show next month; and I have ordered my husband to take me to Paris. For you sake, I will put it off for a week; and we will come and stay here, instead — so that I may be ready on the spot for anything that happens. No; you needn’t kiss me — you will do infinitely better if you listen to what I have too say. I have been carefully watching Sophia and your young man, and I have arrived at the conclusion that his doctor is certainly in love with him. (Haven’t I told you to listen? Then why don’t you let me go on?) I am equally certain, Salome, that he is not in love with her. (
Will
you listen?) But she flatters his conceit — and many a woman has caught her man in that way. Besides this danger, she has one terrible advantage over you: she is his doctor. And she has the devil’s own luck — I am too excited to choose my language — with papa and Sir John. Otto is disposed to believe in her; and papa and that wretched Alderman just get well enough to encourage him. Did you notice, at supper, that she ordered him to take this, and forbade him to take that — and treated the poor creature like a child? Oh, I can tell you, we have no time to lose!’

‘What are we to do, Lois?’

‘
Will
you listen? This is the second of the month. Give my love to the dear old people upstairs, and say that we must have another party, a garden-party, on the fifth. It is the safest way of getting at Pillico. If I call on her, she’s quite sharp enough to suspect that I have a reason for it. What’s the matter now?’

Salome looked towards the door. ‘Don’t I hear the cab? Oh, dear, your husband has come back already!’

‘Haven’t I told him to wait? They say marriage strengthens girls’ minds — and I sincerely hope they are right! In all probability Mr Fitzmark will call to-morrow, to make polite inquiries. You must not be at home. What do you mean by saying, “Oh!” If you don’t take my advice, I shall go to Paris.’

‘I beg your pardon, Lois: I’ll do whatever you tell me.’

Mrs Crossmichael rose, and rang for her cloak. ‘There’s on e thing more you must do — provoke his jealousy. The mother of that other young fellow who is dangling after you is just the person you want for the purpose. I heard her ask you to fix a day for visiting them at Windsor. You promised to write. Write to-morrow; and propose the day after, for your visit — returning the next morning, of course, for the garden-party. Leave word where you have gone, when the beautiful Otto calls again. In the language of Miss Pillico, my dear, he wants a stimulant. I know what I am about. Good night.’

V
II

Mr Fitzmark called the next day, as Mrs Crossmichael had anticipated, and returned to his quarters at Sir John’s a disappointed man. An hour later his doctor arrived, and found him in the garden, consoling himself with a cigarette. She took it out of his mouth with a fascinating familiarity, and threw it away.

‘I find I must speak seriously, Mr Fitzmark. There’s nobody in the garden. Suppose we sit down in the summer-house?’

They took their chairs, and Miss Pillico produced her stethoscope.

‘Open your waistcoat, please. Thank you — that will do.’ She used her stethoscope, and then she used her ear; and then she took his hand. Not to press it! Only to put him into the right position to have his pulse felt. ‘I have already told you that there is really no danger,’ she said. ‘The action of your heart is irregular — and I find I have underrated the necessity of taking certain precautions. But I have no doubt of being able to restore you to health, if — ’ she let go of his hand, and looked at him tenderly — ’if you will believe in your doctor, and do your best to help me.’

Otto only waited for his instructions. ‘I am careful about my diet,’ he said; ‘I never hurry myself in going upstairs; and, now I know you object to it, I won’t smoke. Is there anything more?’

‘One thing more,’ said Sophia softly. ‘After what I saw last night, I cannot conceal from myself that Society is bad for you. You were excited — oh, you were! Your doctor thought of your heart, and had her eye on you when you were talking to that lovely girl. Of course you are invited to the garden-party? Do me a favour (in my medical capacity) — help your poor heart; write an excuse.’

Otto consented, not very willingly, to make a sacrifice to the necessities, as distinguished from the inclinations, of his heart. Sophia’s pretty brown eyes stole a look at him — a gentle, appealing look. ‘I am afraid you hate me for keeping you away from Miss Salome,’ she said.

This demand on Otto’s gallantry only admitted of one reply. ‘Miss Pillico, the man doesn’t live who could hate you.’

The Doctor blushed. ‘I wonder whether I may put a bold question,’ she murmured — ’entirely in the interest of your health?’ She hesitated, and toyed confusedly with her stethoscope. ‘I hardly know how to put it. Pray remember what I have already told you about your heart! Pleasurable excitement is just as bad for it as painful excitement. Bear that in mind, and let me suppose something quite likely — an event in which all your friends must feel the deepest interest. Let me suppose (professionally) that you are going to be married.’

Otto denied it, without stopping to think first. The effect he produced on Miss Pillico rather alarmed him. She clasped her hands, and exclaimed fervently, ‘What a relief!’

She was a strong-minded woman, and she followed a man’s profession. Would she take a man’s privilege, and make him an offer of marriage? Otto’s weak heart began to flutter. Sophia still played with her stethoscope.

‘I was thinking of my medical responsibility,’ she explained. ‘Please let me listen again.’

Otto submitted. There was a prolonged examination. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘under present conditions there can be no doubt of it. You mustn’t! Indeed, you mustn’t!’

‘Mustn’t — what?’ Otto asked.

‘Marry!’ Miss Pillico answered sternly.

‘Never?’ Otto persisted piteously.

Sophia informed him that it depended on the treatment. ‘What I have said to you,’ she proceeded, not unmindful of the future in her own interests, ‘refers to the present time. If you had been engaged to marry some young lady, for instance, I should have said, Put it off. Or, if you only contemplated such a thing, I should say, Pause. In one word, we have an interval to pass: long or short, is more than I can yet tell.’ She rose, and laid her hand persuasively on his arm. ‘Pray be regular with your medicine,’ she pleaded, ‘and let me know directly if you feel any change in your heart.’ They passed a flower-bed on their way back to the house. Miss Pillico admired the roses. Otto instantly presented her with a rose. She put it in her bosom — and sighed — and gave him a farewell look. For the first time he left the look unreturned. He had accidentally picked the rose which bore Salome’s favourite colour — he was thinking of the grey-eyed girl with golden hair. Before Sophia could win back his attention to herself, Young John, with his pipe in his mouth, appeared at a turn in the path. The Doctor took her leave in depressed spirits.

Otto hesitated about giving up the garden-party. It was only on the next day that he decided on staying at home. He wrote his excuses to Salome.

In the meanwhile Young John advanced lazily towards the summer-house, and discovered his sister in ambush at the back of the building. Sour Bess was in such a state of excitement that she actually forgot her quarrel with her brother. ‘I’ve heard every word they said to each other!’ she burst out. ‘That hateful wretch is sweet on Otto, and means to make him marry her. Oh, Johnny! how can I stop it? Who can I speak to first?’

Young John’s sympathy with his sister — when she happened to be in an especially malicious mood — expressed itself in a broad grin. United by their mutual interest in making mischief, these amiable young people met, in reconciliation, on common ground. ‘It’s no use speaking to Otto,’ Johnny remarked, ‘he’s such a fool. And, as for my father, he’d sooner believe Pillico than either of us. The girl next door is fond of Otto. How would it be if you told her?’

Bess refused even to consider the suggestion. ‘No,’ she said, ‘it might be doing a service to Salome, and we are not on speaking terms.’

Young John, under these circumstances, counselled patience. ‘Don’t throw away a good chance, Bess, by being in a hurry. It won’t hurt to wait for Skirton’s garden-party. Miss Pillico will be there; she’ll give you another opportunity.’

Bess was struck by his last suggestion. ‘I didn’t intend to go to the party,’ she said. ‘You’re quite right; I’ll accept the invitation.’

V
III

The servant who had delivered Otto’s written excuses came back with a message. His letter would be given to Miss Salome on her return from Windsor.

This announcement at once proved Mrs Crossmichael’s calculations to be correct. Otto was at no loss to interpret the meaning of Salome’s absence at Windsor. She was visiting the mother of his rival, at a time when her son was staying in the house. In other words, she was indirectly encouraging a man who was reported to have already made her an unsuccessful offer of marriage, and to be prepared to try again. Otto sent the servant back to ascertain the exact time at which Miss Salome was expected to return. The reply informed him that she was to travel by an early train, and that she would be at home on the morning of the garden-party by twelve o’clock. A second letter was thereupon despatched, asking for an interview soon after that time. Jealousy had determined Otto to take the gloomiest view of the state of his heart. Instead of asking Salome to make loving allowance for the formidable revelations of the stethoscope, he proposed to retire from the field in favour of the ‘fortunate gentleman whom she preferred.’ Such was the vindictive feeling with which this otherwise inoffensive young man regarded his sweetheart’s visit to Windsor; and so had Mrs Crossmichael’s clever calculations defeated themselves.

At two o’clock on the day of the party, Salome’s devoted sister performed her promise.

She and her husband arrived, to occupy the room which was always reserved for them in Mr Skirton’s house. Asking at once for her sister, she was informed that Salome was behaving very strangely; she had locked herself up in her room, and would open the door to nobody. Mrs Crossmichael applied for admission, with the energy peculiar to herself. ‘You know that my husband invariably obeys my orders, and that he is one of the biggest men in England. If you don’t let me in, I shall call him up, and say, Burst open that door.’ Salome gave way. Her eyes were red, her cheeks were stained with tears. ‘You’re the worst enemy I have!’ she cried passionately, as her sister entered the room; ‘I’ll never forgive you for sending me to Windsor.’

‘A row with Otto?’ Mrs Crossmichael asked quietly.

‘Otto has given me up! Otto leave the other man (whom I hate and detest) free to marry me! That’s what comes of taking your advice.’

Mrs Crossmichael preserved her temper. ‘Had he any other reason to give,’ she continued, ‘besides jealousy of the other man? If that was his only motive, you will have reason to be grateful to me, Salome, as long as you live.’

‘He
had
another reason — a dreadful reason — a mysterious reason. Marriage is forbidden to him. And, when I wanted to know why, he looked the picture of despair, and said, “Ask no more!”‘

‘Is he coming to the party?’

‘Of course not!’

‘What’s his excuse?’

‘Ill-health.’

‘Wait here, Salome, till I come back.’

Mrs Crossmichael immediately presented herself at the next house. Mr Fitzmark was not well enough to see her. the message was positive; and the wooden-faced valet was impenetrable. Not daunted yet, the obstinate visitor asked for Miss Pillico. Miss Pillico was not in the house. Mrs Crossmichael returned, defeated, but not discouraged yet.

She appeared to be quite satisfied when Salome told her that the fair physician would be present at the garden-party.

The guests began to arrive; and Sophia was among them.

Her two faithful patients, Sir John and Mr Skirton, noticed that she was serious and silent. Mr Skirton asked if she had visited Otto that day. No; she had not thought it necessary, and he had not sent to say that he wanted her. Mrs Crossmichael, waiting her opportunity, got into conversation with Sophia, in a quiet part of the grounds. Salome waylaid her sister, when the interview was over: ‘What have you found out?’ Mrs Crossmichael whispered back, ‘Pillico was not born yesterday. She has some reason for being discontented with Otto — that’s all I can discover so far. Hush! don’t turn round too suddenly. Do you see that cat?’