He went on thinking of it, though he still
continued to condemn himself for keeping it in his thoughts. That
night at home he would make up his mind, so he declared to himself;
and would then write to his niece begging her to drop the subject.
Having so far come to a resolution he went on meditating what course
of life it might be well for him to pursue if he and Miss Dunstable
should after all become man and wife.
There were two ladies whom it behoved him to see on the day of
his arrival--whom, indeed, he generally saw every day except when
absent from Greshamsbury. The first of these--first in the general
consideration of the people of the place--was the wife of the squire,
Lady Arabella Gresham, a very old patient of the doctor's. Her it was
his custom to visit early in the afternoon; and then, if he were able
to escape the squire's daily invitation to dinner, he customarily
went to the other, Lady Scatcherd, when the rapid meal in his own
house was over. Such, at least, was his summer practice. "Well,
doctor, how are they at Boxall Hill?" said the squire, way-laying him
on the gravel sweep before the door. The squire was very hard set for
occupation in these summer months.
"Quite well, I believe."
"I don't know what's come to Frank.
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