Peters Mother | Page 6

that a very proper spirit."
The doctor made no comment on the anecdote. "May I ask how Lady
Mary is bearing this suspense?" he asked.
"Lady Mary knows nothing of the matter," said the squire, rather
peevishly.
"You have not prepared her?"
"No; and I particularly desire she and my sisters should hear nothing of
it. If this is to be my last evening on earth, I should not wish it to be
clouded by tears and lamentations, which might make it difficult for me

to maintain my own self-command. Herslett said I was not to be
agitated. I shall bid them all good night just as usual. In the morning I
beg you will be good enough to make the necessary explanations. Lady
Mary need hear nothing of it till it is over, for you know she never
leaves her room before twelve--a habit I have often deplored, but which
is highly convenient on this occasion."
Dr. Blundell reflected for a moment. "May I venture to remonstrate
with you, Sir Timothy?" he said. "I fear Lady Mary may be deeply
shocked and hurt at being thus excluded from your confidence in so
serious a case. Should anything go wrong," he added bluntly, "it would
be difficult to account to her even for my own reticence."
Sir Timothy rose majestic from his chair. "You will say that I forbade
you to make the communication," he said, with rather a displeased air.
"I beg your pardon," said Dr. Blundell, "but--"
"I am not offended," interrupted Sir Timothy, mistaking remonstrance
for apology. He was quite honestly incapable of supposing that his
physician would presume to argue with him.
"You do not, very naturally, understand Lady Mary's disposition as
well as I do," he said, almost graciously. "She has been sheltered from
anxiety, from trouble of every kind, since her childhood. To me, more
than a quarter of a century her senior, she seems, indeed, still almost a
child."
Dr. Blundell coloured. "Yet she is the mother of a grown-up son," he
said.
"Peter grown-up! Nonsense! A schoolboy."
"Eighteen," said the doctor, shortly. "You don't wish him sent for?"
"Most certainly not. The Christmas holidays are only just over. Rest
assured, Dr. Blundell," said Sir Timothy, with grim emphasis, "that I
shall give Peter no excuse for leaving his work, if I can help it."

There was a tap at the door. The squire lowered his voice and spoke
hurriedly.
"If it is the canon, tell him, in confidence, what I have told you, and say
that I should wish him to be present to-morrow, in his official capacity,
in case of--"
It was the canon, whose rosy good-humoured countenance appeared in
the doorway whilst Sir Timothy was yet speaking.
"I hope I am not interrupting," he said, "but the ladies desired me--that
is, Lady Belstone and Miss Crewys desired me--to let you know that
tea was ready."
The canon had an innocent surprised face like a baby; he was
constitutionally timid and amiable, and his dislike of argument, or of a
loud voice, almost amounted to fear.
Sir Timothy mistook his nervousness for proper respect, and
maintained a distant but condescending graciousness towards him.
"I hear you came back by the afternoon train, Sir Timothy. A London
outing is a rare thing for you. I hope you enjoyed yourself," said the
canon, with a meaningless laugh.
"I transacted my business successfully, thank you," said Sir Timothy,
gravely.
"Brought back any fresh news of the war?"
"None at all."
"I hear the call for more men has been responded to all over the country.
It's a fine thing, so many young fellows ready and willing to lay down
their lives for their country."
"Very few young men, I believe," said Sir Timothy, frigidly, "can resist
any opportunity to be concerned in brawling and bloodshed, especially
when it is legalized under the name of war. My respect is reserved for

the steady workers at home."
"And how much peace would the steady workers at home enjoy
without the brawlers abroad to defend them, I wonder!" cried the canon,
flushing all over his rosy face, and then suddenly faltering as he met the
cold surprise of the squire's grey eyes.
"I have some letters to finish before post time," said Sir Timothy, after
an impressive short pause of displeasure. "I will join you presently, Dr.
Blundell, at the tea-table, if you will return to the ladies with Canon
Birch."
Sir Timothy rang for lights, and his visitors closed the door of the study
behind them. Dr. Blundell's backward glance showed him the tall and
portly form silhouetted against the window; the last gleam of daylight
illuminating the iron-grey hair; the face turned towards the hilltop,
where the spires of the skeleton larches were sharply outlined against a
clear