which he had been deprived.  If Roger did not do well at Cambridge it would be his own fault.  If his father did not send him thither, some day or other he might be regretting the omission, as Squire Roger had done himself for many a year.  So Roger followed his brother Osborne to Trinity,’ and Mrs. Hamley was again left alone, after the year of indecision as to Roger’s destination, which had been brought on by her urgency.  She had not been able for many years to walk beyond her garden; the greater part of her life was spent on a sofa, wheeled to the window in summer, to the fireside in winter.  The room which she inhabited was large and pleasant; four tall windows looked out upon a lawn dotted over with flower-beds, and melting away into a small wood, in the centre of which there was a pond, filled with water-lilies.  About this unseen pond in the deep shade Mrs. Hamley had written many a pretty four-versed poem since she lay on her sofa, alternately reading and composing poetry.  She had a small table by her side on which there were the newest works of poetry and fiction; a pencil and blotting-book, with loose sheets of blank paper; a vase of flowers always of her husband’s gathering; winter and summer, she had a sweet fresh nosegay every day.  Her maid brought her a draught of medicine every three hours, with a glass of clear water and a biscuit; her husband came to her as often as his love for the open air and his labours out-of-doors permitted; but the event of her day, when her boys were absent, was Mr. Gibson’s frequent professional visits.

He knew there was real secret harm going on all this time that people spoke of her as a merely fanciful invalid; and that one or two accused him of humouring her fancies.  But he only smiled at such accusations.  He felt that his visits were a real pleasure and lightening of her growing and indescribable discomfort; he knew that Squire Hamley would have been only too glad if he had come every day; and he was conscious that by careful watching of her symptoms he might mitigate her bodily pain.  Besides all these reasons, he took great pleasure in the squire’s society.  Mr. Gibson enjoyed the other’s unreasonableness; his quaintness; his strong conservatism in religion, politics, and morals.  Mrs. Hamley tried sometimes to apologize for, or to soften away, opinions which she fancied were offensive to the doctor, or contradictions which she thought too abrupt; but at such times her husband would lay his great hand almost caressingly on Mr. Gibson’s shoulder, and soothe his wife’s anxiety, by saying, ’Let us alone, little woman.  We understand each other, don’t we, doctor?  Why, bless your life, he gives me better than he gets many a time; only, you see, he sugars it over, and says a sharp thing, and pretends it’s all civility and humility; but I can tell when he’s giving me a pill.’