By the afternoon, when Colonel Keith came to Bishopsworthy, Alick was
lying on the sofa with such a headache that he could neither see nor
spell, and Rachel was writing letters for him, both in the frame of mind
in which the Colonel's genuine warm affection and admiration for Bessie
was very comforting, assisting them in putting all past misgivings out
of sight. He had induced his brother to see Mr. Harvey, and the result
had been that Lord Keith had consented to a consultation the next day
with an eminent London surgeon, since it was clear that the blow, not
the sciatica, was answerable for the suffering which was evidently
becoming severe. The Colonel of course intended to remain with his
brother, at least till after the funeral.
"Can you?" exclaimed Alick. "Ought you not to be at Avoncester?"
"I am not a witness, and the case is in excellent hands."
"Could you not run down? I shall be available tomorrow, and I could be
with Lord Keith."
"Thank you, Alick, it is impossible for me to leave him," said Colin,
so quietly that no one could have guessed how keenly he felt the being
deprived of bringing her brother to Ermine, and being present at
the crisis to which all his thoughts and endeavours had so long been
directed.
That assize day had long been a dream of dread to Rachel, and perhaps
even more so to her husband. Yet how remote its interest actually
seemed! They scarcely thought of it for the chief part of the day. Alick
looking very pale, though calling himself well, went early to Timber
End, and he had not long been gone before a card was brought in, with an
urgent entreaty that Mrs. Keith would see Mrs. Carleton. Rachel longed
to consult Mr. Clare, but he had gone out to a sick person, and she
was obliged to decide that Alick could scarcely wish her to refuse,
reluctant and indignant as she felt. But her wrath lessened as she saw
the lady's tears and agitation, so great that for a moment no words were
possible, and the first were broken apologies for intruding, "Nothing
should have induced her, but her poor son was in such a dreadful state."
Rachel again became cold and stern, and did not relent at the
description of Charlie's horror and agony; for she was wondering at the
audacity of mentioning his grief to the wife of Lady Keith's brother,
and thinking that this weak, indulgent mother was the very person to
make a foolish, mischievous son, and it was on her tongue's end that
she did not see to what she was indebted for the favour of such a visit.
Perhaps Mrs. Carleton perceived her resentment, for she broke off, and
urgently asked if poor dear Lady Keith had alluded to anything that had
passed. "Yes," Rachel was is forced to say; and when again pressed as
to the manner of alluding, replied, that "she was exceedingly distressed
and displeased," with difficulty refraining from saying who had done
all the mischief. Mrs. Carleton was in no need of hearing it. "Ah!"
she said, "it was right, quite right. It was very wrong of my poor
boy. Indeed I am not excusing him, but if you only knew how he blames
himself."