CHAPTER III

MOLLY GIBSON'S CHILDHOOD


Sixteen years before this time, all Hollingford had been disturbed to
its foundations by the intelligence that Mr. Hall, the skilful doctor,
who had attended them all their days, was going to take a partner. It
was no use reasoning to them on the subject; so Mr Browning the vicar,
Mr. Sheepshanks (Lord Cumnor's agent), and Mr Hall himself, the
masculine reasoners of the little society, left off the attempt,
feeling that the _Che sara sara_ would prove more silencing to the
murmurs than many arguments. Mr. Hall had told his faithful patients
that, even with the strongest spectacles, his sight was not to be
depended upon; and they might have found out for themselves that his
hearing was very defective, although, on this point, he obstinately
adhered to his own opinion, and was frequently heard to regret the
carelessness of people's communication nowadays, 'like writing on
blotting-paper, all the words running into each other,' he would say.
And more than once Mr. Hall had had attacks of a suspicious nature,--
'rheumatism' he used to call them; but he prescribed for himself as if
they had been gout,--which had prevented his immediate attention to
imperative summonses. But, blind and deaf, and rheumatic as he might
be, he was still Mr. Hall, the doctor who could heal all their
ailments--unless they died meanwhile--and he had no right to speak of
growing old, and taking a partner.