Peters Mother | Page 6

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 western sky.
"What made you harp upon the war, man, knowing what his opinions are?" the doctor asked vexedly, as he stumbled along the uneven stone passage towards the hall.
"I did not exactly intend to do so; but I declare, the moment I see Sir Timothy, every subject I wish to avoid seems to fly to the tip of my tongue," said the poor canon, apologetically; "though I had a reason for alluding to the war to-night--a good reason, as I think you will acknowledge presently. I want your advice, doctor."
"Not for yourself, I hope," said the doctor, absently.
"Come into the gun-room for one moment," said Birch. "It is very important. Do you know I've a letter from Peter?"
"From Peter! Why should you have a letter from Peter?" said the doctor, and his uninterested