Part 36 (1/2)
Health . . . . . . . . . Perfect
Temper . . . . . . . . . Feminine
Austere, with a Habits . . . . resolutely suppressed capacity for romance.
Business . . . . . . . . . None
Profession . . . . . . . Physician
Mania . . . . . . . . A Mission
”NOTE.--Dr. Rosalind Hollis was presented to society in her eighteenth year. At the end of her second season she withdrew from society with the determination to devote her entire life to charity. Settlement work and the study of medicine have occupied her constantly. Recently admitted to practice, she spends her mornings in visiting the poor, whom she treats free of all charge; her afternoons and evenings are devoted to what she expects is to be her specialty: the study of the rare malady known as Lamour's Disease. (_See note on second page._)
”It is understood that Dr. Hollis has abjured the society of all men other than her patients and such of her professional _confreres_ as she is obliged to consult or work with. Her theory is that of the beehive: drones for mates, workers for work. She adds, very decidedly, that she belongs to the latter division, and means to remain there permanently.
”NOTE (_Mr. Keen's...o...b.., pp. 916-18_).--Her eccentricity is probably the result of a fine, wholesome, highly strung young girl taking life and herself too seriously. The remedy will be the _Right Man_.”
”_Ex_actly,” nodded Mr. Keen, joining the tips of his thin fingers and partly closing his eyes. ”Now, Miss Smith, the disease which Dr. Hollis intends to make her specialty--have you any notes on that?”
”Here they are,” said Miss Smith; and she read: ”Lamour's Disease; the rarest of all known diseases; first discovered and described by Ero S.
Lamour, M.D., M.S., F.B.A., M.F.H., in 1861. Only a single case has ever been observed. This case is fully described in Dr. Lamour's superb and monumental work in sixteen volumes. Briefly, the disease appears without any known cause, and is ultimately supposed to result fatally. The first symptom is the appearance of a faintly bluish circle under the eyes, as though the patient was accustomed to using the eyes too steadily at times. Sometimes a slight degree of fever accompanies this manifestation; pulse and temperature vary. The patient is apparently in excellent health, but liable to loss of appet.i.te, restlessness, and a sudden flus.h.i.+ng of the face. These symptoms are followed by others unmistakable: the patient becomes silent at times; at times evinces a weakness for sentimental expressions; flushes easily; is easily depressed; will sit for hours looking at one person; and, if not checked, will exhibit impulsive symptoms of affection for the opposite s.e.x. The strangest symptom of all, however, is the physical change in the patient, whose features and figure, under the trained eye of the observer, gradually from day to day a.s.sume the symmetry and charm of a beauty almost unearthly, sometimes accompanied by a spiritual pallor which is unmistakable in confirming the diagnosis, and which, Dr. Lamour believes, presages the inexorable approach of immortality.
”There is no known remedy for Lamour's Disease. The only case on record is the case of the young lady described by Dr. Lamour, who watched her for years with unexampled patience and enthusiasm; finally, in the interest of science, marrying his patient in order to devote his life to a study of her symptoms. Unfortunately, some of these disappeared early--within a week--but the curious manifestation of physical beauty remained, and continued to increase daily to a dazzling radiance, with no apparent injury to the patient. Dr. Lamour, unfortunately, died before his investigations, covering over forty years, could be completed; his widow survived him for a day or two only, leaving sixteen children.
”Here is a wide and unknown field for medical men to investigate. It is safe to say that the physician who first discovers the bacillus of Lamour's Disease and the proper remedy to combat it will reap as his reward a glory and renown imperishable. Lamour's Disease is a disease not yet understood--a disease whose termination is believed to be fatal--a strange disease which seems to render radiant and beautiful the features of the patient, brightening them with the forewarning of impending death and the splendid resurrection of immortality.”
The Tracer of Lost Persons caressed his chin reflectively. ”_Ex_actly, Miss Smith. So this is the disease which Dr. Hollis has chosen for her specialty. And only one case on record. _Ex_actly. Thank you.”
Miss Smith replaced the papers in the steel cylinder, slipped it into the pneumatic tube, sent it whizzing below to the safe-deposit vaults, and, saluting Mr. Keen with a pleasant inclination of her head, went out of the room.
The Tracer turned in his chair, picked up the daily detective report, and scanned it until he came to the name Hollis. It appeared that the daily routine of Rosalind Hollis had not varied during the past three weeks. In the mornings she was good to the poor with bottles and pills; in the afternoons she tucked one of Lamour's famous sixteen volumes under her arm and walked to Central Park, where, with democratic simplicity, she sat on a secluded bench and pored over the symptoms of Lamour's Disease. About five she retired to her severely simple apartments in the big brownstone office building devoted to physicians, corner of Fifty-eighth Street and Madison Avenue. Here she took tea, read a little, dined all alone, and retired about nine. This was the guileless but determined existence of Rosalind Hollis, M.D., according to McConnell, the detective a.s.signed to observe her.
The Tracer refolded the report of his chief of detectives and pigeonholed it just as the door opened and a tall, well-built, attractive young man entered.
Shyness was written all over him; he offered his hand to Mr. Keen with an embarra.s.sed air and seated himself at that gentleman's invitation.
”I'm almost sorry I ever began this sort of thing,” he blurted out, like a big schoolboy appalled at his own misdemeanors. ”The truth is, Mr.
Keen, that the prospect of actually seeing a 'Carden Girl' alive has scared me through and through. I've a notion that my business with that sort of a girl ends when I've drawn her picture.”
”But surely,” said the Tracer mildly, ”you have some natural curiosity to see the living copy of your charming but inanimate originals, haven't you, Mr. Carden?”
”Yes--oh, certainly. I'd like to see one of them alive--say out of a window, or from a cab. I should not care to be too close to her.”
”But merely seeing her does not commit you,” interposed Mr. Keen, smiling. ”She is far too busy, too much absorbed in her own affairs to take any notice of you. I understand that she has something of an aversion for men.”
”Aversion!”
”Well, she excludes them as unnecessary to her existence.”
”Why?” asked Carden.