And he, looking at her flushed face and great excitement of manner, wondered whether she was going to tell him about some illness of her own; and conscious of a certain prejudice against her, because of her marriage to this man, and a farewell he had witnessed between her and--Sir Albert Gerald.
Since that first interview Dr. Jones had had with the poor wife his feelings of admiration and pity had changed a good deal.
The explanation of her position lowered her considerably in his eyes. Perhaps no one sees the utter emptiness of life, and the non-importance of wealth, more than a medical man, who sees how little happiness it brings to any one; how little (standing by itself) it does for poor humanity.
He was disgusted when he saw that there was apparently no excuse for her; and he was shocked when he saw a farewell between her and a young man as he passed Mr. Skidd's shop, because here was evidently a lover. Her face he could not see, but Sir Albert's expression was unmistakable.
Margaret, having no clue to his coldness and evident disapproval, felt speaking difficult, far more difficult than she had thought.
"I want to speak to you," she said, colouring under his searching gaze. "I want to tell you about my husband. I am very miserable, and I am very much frightened."
"Humph!" said Dr. Jones, "let us leave the misery upon one side, and talk about your fears; what makes you afraid?"
"My husband's violence. He was so very violent yesterday and this morning; I am afraid of his doing me an injury--I am afraid because of my child," and Margaret shivered.
"He cannot bear my going out. He never allows me to go out, I am a prisoner here!"
He remembered having seen her out, and in his heart believed she was deliberately telling him a lie.
"What do you want to go out for?" he asked, roughly. "What do you mean by 'going out'?"
Another lie he thought. "Why don't you brave him and go?" he said, trying her; "you might leave him altogether."
"Because I am told that if I leave he can keep my child!" said Margaret, passionately.
"Does it? I do not agree with you; why should a man be deprived of his child any more than a woman?"
"But if a man--is--mad?" whispered poor Margaret.
"Oh, that's where you are, is it! Well, I do not think that word is applicable here. There is temper, and there _was_ drink. You will forgive my saying that, as you married Mr. Drayton, you took him for better or for worse. I do not think his health is good, and his temper is--well, irritable--that is the worst."