Mr Mortimer Gazebee was now at the house, and therefore, it must be presumed, that things were not allowed to go on after their old fashion. Mr Gazebee was an acute as well as fashionable man; one who knew what he was about, and who, moreover, had determined to give his very best efforts on behalf of the Greshamsbury property. His energy, in this respect, will explain itself hereafter. It was not probable that the arrival in the village of such a person as Sir Louis Scatcherd should escape attention. He had heard of it before dinner, and, before the evening was over, had discussed it with Lady Arabella.
Her ladyship was not at first inclined to make much of Sir Louis, and expressed herself as but little inclined to agree with Mr Gazebee when that gentleman suggested that he should be treated with civility at Greshamsbury. But she was at last talked over. She found it pleasant enough to have more to do with the secret management of the estate than Mr Gresham himself; and when Mr Gazebee proved to her, by sundry nods and winks, and subtle allusions to her own infinite good sense, that it was necessary to catch this obscene bird which had come to prey upon the estate, by throwing a little salt upon his tail, she also nodded and winked, and directed Augusta to prepare the salt according to order.
‘But won’t it be odd, Mr Gazebee, asking him out of Dr Thorne’s house?’
’Oh, we must have the doctor, too, Lady Arabella; by all means ask the doctor also.’
Lady Arabella’s brow grew dark. ‘Mr Gazebee,’ she said, ’you can hardly believe how that man has behaved to me.’
‘He is altogether beneath your anger,’ said Mr Gazebee, with a bow.
’I don’t know: in one way he may be, but not in another. I really do not think I can sit down to table with Doctor Thorne.’
But, nevertheless, Mr Gazebee gained his point. It was now about a week since Sir Omicron Pie had been at Greshamsbury, and the squire had, almost daily, spoken to his wife as to that learned man’s advice. Lady Arabella always answered in the same tone: ’You can hardly know, Mr Gresham, how that man has insulted me.’ But, nevertheless, the physician’s advice had not been disbelieved: it tallied too well with her own inward convictions. She was anxious enough to have Doctor Thorne back at her bedside, if she could only get him there without damage to her pride. Her husband, she thought, might probably send the doctor there without absolute permission from herself; in which case she would have been able to scold, and show that she was offended; and, at the same time, profit by what had been done. But Mr Gresham never thought of taking so violent a step as this, and, therefore, Dr Fillgrave still came, and her ladyship’s finesse was wasted in vain.
But Mr Gazebee’s proposition opened a door by which her point might be gained. ‘Well,’ said she, at last, with infinite self-denial, ’if you think it is for Mr Gresham’s advantage, and if he chooses to ask Dr Thorne, I will not refuse to receive him.’