Part 32 (1/2)
CHAPTER XVII
HERBERT IS PATIENT
On the second morning after the accident, Herbert, lying stiffly swathed in bandages, opened his eyes in a partly darkened room. A nurse was standing near a table, and when the injured man painfully turned his head, the doctor, who had been speaking to her, came toward him.
”I think we can let you talk a little now,” he said. ”How do you feel?”
Herbert's face relaxed into a feeble smile.
”Very far from happy. I suppose I've been badly knocked about?”
”I've treated more serious cases, and you'll get over it. But you'll have to reconcile yourself to lying quiet for a long while.”
Herbert made no reply to this, but his expression suggested that he was trying to think.
”Has the thing got into the papers?” he asked.
The doctor was a little surprised; it seemed a curious point for his patient to take an interest in, but he was willing to indulge him.
”It's early yet, but one of the _Courier_ people stopped me as I was driving out and I gave him a few particulars. You can't hush the matter up.”
”No,” said Herbert. ”You did quite right. Hadn't you better mention exactly what's the matter with me?”
”If I did, you wouldn't understand it,” said the doctor, who generally adopted a cheerful, half-humorous tone. ”In plain English, you have two ribs broken, besides a number of contusions, and I'm inclined to suspect your nervous system has received a nasty shock.”
”And the cure?”
”Complete rest, patience, and perhaps a change of scene when you're able to get about.”
”That means I'll have to drop all active interest in my business for some time?”
”I'm afraid so; by and by we'll consider when you can resume it.”
It struck the doctor that Herbert was not displeased with the information; and that seemed strange, considering that he was a busy, energetic man. He lay silent a while with an undisturbed expression.
”I wonder if you would write a telegram and a letter for me?” he asked at length.
”With pleasure, if you don't think you have talked enough. Can't you wait until to-morrow?”
”I'll feel easier when I've got it off my mind.”
The doctor thought this likely. He made a sign of acquiescence and took out his notebook; and Herbert give him the rubber company's London address and then dictated:
”_Regret I am incapacitated for business for indefinite period by motor accident. If advisable appoint new director in my place before shareholders' meeting, which cannot attend. Compelled to remain in strict quietness_.”
”You might send these people a short note,” he added, ”stating that I'm submitting to your advice, and giving them a few particulars about my injuries.”
”I'll be glad to do so.”