Part 18 (1/2)
The Doctor met him as if he was an expected client. ”You are come at last, Hatton,” he said. ”I have been expecting you for a long time.”
”Then you know what instruction I have come for?”
”I should say I do.”
”What is the matter with my wife's health?”
”I ought to send you to her for that information. She can tell you better than I can.”
”Sewell, what do you mean? Speak straight.”
”Hatton, there are some women who love children and who will even risk social honor for maternity. There are other women who hate motherhood and who will constantly risk suicide rather than permit it. Mrs. Hatton belongs to the latter cla.s.s.”
John was stupefied at these words. He could only look into the Doctor's face and try to a.s.similate their meaning. For they fell upon his ears as if each syllable was a blow and he could not gather them together.
”My wife! Jane--do you mean?” and he looked helplessly at Sewell and it was some minutes before John could continue the conversation or rather listen to Sewell who then sat down beside him and taking his hand in his own said,
”Do not speak, Hatton. I will talk for you. I should have spoken long ago, but I knew not whether you--you--forgive me, Hatton, but there are such men. If I have slandered you in my thought, if I have done you this great wrong----”
”Oh Doctor, the hope and despair of my married life has been--the longing for my sons and daughters.”
”Poor lad! And thee so good and kind to every little one, that comes in thy way. It is too bad, it is that. By heaven, I am thankful to be an old bachelor! Thou must try and understand, John, that women are never the same, and yet that in some great matters, what creation saw them, they are today. Their endless variety and their eternal similarity are what charm men. In the days of the patriarchs there were women who would not have children, and there were women also who longed and prayed for them, even as Hannah did. It is just that way today. Their reasons then and their reasons now may be different but both are equally powerful.”
”I never heard tell of such women! Never!”
”They were not likely to come thy road. Thou wert long in taking a wife, and when thou did so it was unfortunate thou took one bred up in the way she should _not_ go. I know women who are slowly killing themselves by inducing unnatural diseases through the denial and crucifixion of Nature. Thy own wife is one of them. That she hes not managed the business is solely because she has a superabundance of vitality and a perfect const.i.tution. Physically, Nature intended her for a perfect mother, but--but she cannot go on as she is doing. I have told her so--as plainly as I knew how. Now I tell thee. Such ways cannot go on.”
”They will be stopped--at once--this day--this hour.”
”Nay, nay. She is still very weak and nervous.”
”She wants to go to London.”
”Let her go.”
”But I must speak to her before she goes.”
”In a few days.”
”Sewell, I thank you. I know now what I have to meet. It is the grief _not sure_ that slays hope in a man.”
”To be sure. Does Mrs. Stephen Hatton know of your wife's practices?”
”No. I will stake my honor on that. She may suspect her, but if she was certain she would have spoken to me.”
”Then it is her own mother, and most likely to be so.”
It was noon before John reached Hatton mill. He had received a shock which left him far below his usual condition, and yet feeling so cruelly hurt and injured that it was difficult to obey the physician's request to keep his trouble to himself for a few days.