O. Douglas
Taken by the Hand
Books
OK Publishing, 2020
[email protected] Tous droits réservés.
EAN 4064066397517
Table of Contents
DEDICATION
TO
CLEMENT BRYCE GUNN
FOR NEARLY FIFTY YEARS DOCTOR OF MEDICINE
IN THE TOWN OF PEEBLES
“Those who must journey
Henceforward alone
Have need of stout convoy
Now Great Heart is gone.”
The characters in this book are entirely imaginary, and have no relation to any living person
CHAPTER I
“Finish, good lady: the bright day is done . . .”
Antony and Cleopatra.
Two ladies stood on the doorstep of 14 Park Place, Glasgow. They had not been asked into the house—had not, indeed, expected to be; they were there merely to enquire. First they had parleyed with a maid, then a nurse passing through the hall had been brought to speak to them, and now, satisfied that they had heard all they could hear, they were withdrawing. They were both a little more than middle-aged, stout, comfortable-looking women, obviously well-to-do, with Persian-lamb coats, expensive handbags, and hats of the type known as “matrons” set high on their heads.
In silence they came down the handsome flight of steps from No. 14 and only began to talk when they had got well away from the house.
“Dear, dear,” said Mrs. Murray, the older and the stouter of the two. “Poor Mrs. Dobie! Who would have thought it? Such a healthy woman and so full of life. I don’t think I ever met anyone more ‘on the spot’ as they say. It was a treat to see her get things into shape at a bazaar or anything like that. Just the way she turned herself—so purpose-like. Of course, as a minister’s daughter you may say she was brought up to that sort of thing, but still . . .”
“I’m awfully sorry,” said the younger woman, with a note of genuine feeling in her voice. After a pause she went on: “She was Janie Boyd. I was at school with her, and a wild girl she was, minister’s daughter or no minister’s daughter! The pranks she used to play! And her father such a saint! I’m sure St. Luke’s thought the world of him.”
“Not only St. Luke’s but the whole of Glasgow. He was a good man. . . . Wasn’t Mr. Dobie an elder in St. Luke’s, Mrs. Lithgow?”
“He was. D’you not remember him? A tall man with a beard. His first wife was a Duthie. She had a lot of money. I expect it all went to her only child—Samuel, Sir Samuel now. . . . Mr. Dobie would be sixty when he married again, and Janie Boyd wouldn’t be very young either, thirty-five, mebbe. I never knew why she married him, he was so like a waxwork, and a beard and all, and fussy wasn’t the word. Peggy would tell