Doctor Gale

"When hope lies dead. 
Ah! when 'tis death to live
And wrongs remembered make the heart still bleed, 
Better are sleep's kind lies for 
Life's blind need 
Than truth, if lies a little peace can give."
--THEODORE WATTS-DUNTON.

As Philippa entered the hall of Bessacre High House the butler met her.

"Dr. Gale is here, miss," he said. "He wished me to say that he would be glad to speak to you when you came in."

"Certainly," she replied. "Where is the doctor?"

"In the library, miss. This way."

He conducted her to the door of the room and announced her. A man who had been seated by the writing-table rose to meet her, an elderly man with grizzled hair and beard and thick overhanging eyebrows.

"Miss Harford?" he said in a gruff, abrupt voice as he bowed.

"Yes," answered Philippa. "You wished to speak to me?"

"Please," he returned. "Won't you sit down? You must be tired, and I am afraid I must detain you for a little while."

She seated herself and waited, while the doctor stood before her, pulling fiercely at his ragged beard, and evidently at a loss for words.

When he spoke his manner was short and his tone rather harsh, but he gave her the impression of a man who was to be trusted. Rough, perhaps, but straightforward and honest, if somewhat unpolished. His first words strengthened her conclusion.