The events of the next day at Windygates succeeded each other in due course, as follows: 

The post arrived, and brought no reply from Sir Patrick.  Lady Lundie entered that incident on her mental register of debts owed by her brother-in-law—­to be paid, with interest, when the day of reckoning came.

Next in order occurred the return of the messenger with the steward’s answer.

He had referred to his Diary; and he had discovered that Mr. Brinkworth had written beforehand to announce his arrival at his estate for the fourteenth of August—­but that he had not actually appeared until the fifteenth.  The one discovery needed to substantiate Mrs. Inchbare’s evidence being now in Lady Lundie’s possession, she decided to allow another day to pass—­on the chance that Sir Patrick might al ter his mind, and write to her.  If no letter arrived, and if nothing more was received from Blanche, she resolved to leave Windygates by the next morning’s train, and to try the bold experiment of personal interference at Ham Farm.

The third in the succession of events was the appearance of the doctor to pay his professional visit.

A severe shock awaited him.  He found his patient cured by the draught!  It was contrary to all rule and precedent; it savored of quackery—­the red lavender had no business to do what the red lavender had done—­but there she was, nevertheless, up and dressed, and contemplating a journey to London on the next day but one.  “An act of duty, doctor, is involved in this—­whatever the sacrifice, I must go!” No other explanation could be obtained.  The patient was plainly determined—­nothing remained for the physician but to retreat with unimpaired dignity and a paid fee.  He did it.  “Our art,” he explained to Lady Lundie in confidence, “is nothing, after all, but a choice between alternatives.  For instance.  I see you—­not cured, as you think—­but sustained by abnormal excitement.  I have to ask which is the least of the two evils—­to risk letting you travel, or to irritate you by keeping you at home.  With your constitution, we must risk the journey.  Be careful to keep the window of the carriage up on the side on which the wind blows.  Let the extremities be moderately warm, and the mind easy—­and pray don’t omit to provide yourself with a second bottle of the Mixture before you start.”  He made his bow, as before—­he slipped two guineas into his pocket, as before—­and he went his way, as before, with an approving conscience, in the character of a physician who had done his duty. (What an enviable profession is Medicine!  And why don’t we all belong to it?)

The last of the events was the arrival of Mrs. Glenarm.

“Well?” she began, eagerly, “what news?”

The narrative of her ladyship’s discoveries—­recited at full length; and the announcement of her ladyship’s resolution—­declared in the most uncompromising terms—­raised Mrs. Glenarm’s excitement to the highest pitch.