Part 76 (2/2)
Shortly after this Mr. Carden requested Dr. Amboyne to call; he received the doctor in his study, and told him that he was beginning to be uneasy about Grace; she was losing her appet.i.te, her color, and her spirits.
Should he send her to the seaside?
”The seaside! I distrust conventional remedies. Let me see the patient.”
He entered the room and found her coloring a figure she had drawn: it was a beautiful woman, with an anchor at her feet. The door was open, and the doctor, entering softly, saw a tear fall on the work from a face so pale and worn with pining, that he could hardly repress a start; he did repress it though, for starts are unprofessional; he shook hands with her in his usual way. ”Sorry to hear you are indisposed, my dear Miss Grace.” He then examined her tongue, and felt her pulse; and then he sat down, right before her, and fixed his eyes on her. ”How long have you been unwell?”
”I am not unwell that I know of,” said Grace, a little sullenly.
”One reason I ask, I have another patient, who has been attacked somewhat in the same way.”
Grace colored, and fixed a searching eye on the doctor. ”Do I know the lady?”
”No. For it happens to be a male patient.”
”Perhaps it is going about.”
”Possibly; this is the age of compet.i.tion. Still it is hard you can't have a little malady of this kind all to yourself; don't you think so?”
At this Grace laughed hysterically.
”Come, none of that before me,” said the doctor sternly.
She stopped directly, frightened. The doctor smiled.
Mr. Carden peeped in from his study. ”When you have done with her, come and prescribe for me. I am a little out of sorts too.” With this, he retired. ”That means you are to go and tell him what is the matter with me,” said Grace bitterly.
”Is his curiosity unjustifiable?”
”Oh no. Poor papa!” Then she asked him dryly if he knew what was the matter with her.
”I think I do.”
”Then cure me.” This with haughty incredulity.
”I'll try; and a man can but do his best. I'll tell you one thing: if I can't cure you, no doctor in the world can: see how modest I am. Now for papa.”
She let him go to the very door: and then a meek little timid voice said, in a scarce audible murmur, ”Doctor!”
Now when this meek murmur issued from a young lady who had, up to this period of the interview, been rather cold and cutting, the sagacious doctor smiled. ”My dear?” said he, in a very gentle voice.
”Doctor! about your other patient!”
”Well?”
”Is he as bad as I am? For indeed, my dear friend, I feel--my food has no taste--life itself no savor. I used to go singing, now I sit sighing.
Is he as bad as I am?”
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