fright, and danger, and anger? Had he scaled the privet hedge in the
night, and robbed the garden of its cabbages? What, in short, was it
that he had done? Deerham spoke out pretty broadly, as to the main
facts, although the rumoured details were varied and obscure. It
declared that some of Dr. West's doings at Chalk Cottage had not been
orthodox, and that discovery had followed.

There are two classes of professional men upon whom not a taint should
rest; who ought, in familiar phrase, to keep their hands clean--the
parson of the parish, and the family doctor. Other people may dye
themselves in Warren's jet if they like; but let as much as a spot get
on him who stands in the pulpit to preach to us, or on him who is
admitted to familiar intercourse with our wives and children, and the
spot grows into a dark thundercloud. What's the old saying? "One man may
walk in at the gate, while another must not look over the hedge." It
runs something after that fashion. Had Dr. West not been a family
doctor, the scandal might have been allowed to die out: as it was,
Deerham kept up the ball, and rolled it. The chief motive for this, the
one that influenced Deerham above all others, was unsatisfied curiosity.
Could Deerham have gratified this to the full, it would have been
content to subside into quietness.

Whether it was true, or whether it was false, there was no denying that
it had happened at an unfortunate moment for Dr. West. A man always in
debt--and what he did with his money Deerham could not make out, for his
practice was a lucrative one--he had latterly become actually
embarrassed. Deerham was good-natured enough to say that a handsome sum
had found its way to Chalk Cottage, in the shape of silence-money, or
something of the sort; but Deerham did not know. Dr. West was at his
wits' end where to turn to for a shilling--had been so, for some weeks
past; so that he had no particular need of anything worse coming down
upon him. Perhaps what gave a greater colour to the scandal than
anything else was the fact that, simultaneously with its rise, Dr.
West's visits to Chalk Cottage had suddenly ceased.

Only one had been bold enough to speak upon the subject personally to
Dr. West, and that was the proud old baronet, Sir Rufus Hautley. He rode
down to the doctor's house one day; and, leaving his horse with his
groom, had a private interview with the doctor. That Dr. West must have
contrived to satisfy him in some way, was und