Doctor Luttrell's First Patient
Rosa Nouchette Carey
DOCTOR LUTTRELL'S FIRST PATIENT
by
ROSA NOUCHETTE CAREY
Author of "Little Miss Muffet," "Cousin Mona," "The Mistress of Brae Farm," "Esther," Etc.
[Frontispiece: "I hope you do not think I was wrong?"]
PhiladelphiaJ. B. Lippincott Company1900
Copyright, 1896,byJ. B. Lippincott Company.
_Contents._
CHAPTER I.
AT THE CORNER HOUSE
CHAPTER II.
THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER
CHAPTER III.
AUNT MADGE
CHAPTER IV.
DR. LUTTRELL'S FIRST PATIENT
CHAPTER V.
A VISIT TO GALVASTON HOUSE
CHAPTER VI.
"I REMIND YOU OF SOMEONE?"
CHAPTER VII.
BLOWING BUBBLES
CHAPTER VIII.
"'TIS A LOVE TOKEN, I RECKON"
CHAPTER IX.
THE CHRISTMAS GUEST
CHAPTER X.
A GENTLEMANLY TRAMP
CHAPTER XI.
THE NIGHT-BELL RINGS
CHAPTER XII.
GRETA
CHAPTER XIII.
FRESH COMPLICATIONS
CHAPTER XIV.
AN EVENTFUL DAY
CHAPTER XV.
"THEY WERE BOTH TO BLAME"
CHAPTER XVI.
BUSY DAYS
CHAPTER XVII.
PRODIGAL SONS
CHAPTER XVIII.
AUNT MADGE GIVES HER OPINION
CHAPTER XIX.
DAME FORTUNE SMILES
CHAPTER XX.
"SOMEBODY'S CRUTCH"
CHAPTER XXI.
SUNSHINE AND CLOUDS
CHAPTER XXII.
"YOU MUST NOT LOSE HEART"
CHAPTER XXIII.
"I HAVE COME TO STAY"
CHAPTER XXIV.
"NOT YET"
_Illustrations_
"I hope you do not think I am wrong?" . . . _Frontispiece_
"Oh, Marcus, how happy we are!"
"Olive, look what Mr. Gaythorne has given me"
Mr. Gaythorne sat in his great ebony chair
"It is beautiful--it is perfectly charming!"
"They both looked so comfortable and contented"
Doctor Luttrell's First Patient
CHAPTER I.
AT THE CORNER HOUSE.
"Seek not that the things which happen should happen as youwish."--_Epictetus_.
There is an old adage, worn almost threadbare with continual use, "Whenpoverty looks in at the door, love flies out at the window," and,doubtless, there is an element of truth in the saying; nevertheless,though there were lines of care on Marcus Luttrell's face, and in thestrong sunlight the seams of his wife's black gown looked a littleshiny, there was still peace, and the patience of a great and enduringaffection in the corner house at Galvaston Terrace.
When the brass plate, glittering with newness, had been first affixedto the door, Marcus Luttrell's heart had been sanguine with hope, andhe had brought his young _fiancee_ to see it. The small, narrow house,with its dark, square entry, its double parlours communicating withfolding-doors, and the corner room, that would do for a surgery, hadseemed to them both a most desirable abode.
Olivia, who prided herself on being unusually practical, pointed outits numerous advantages with great satisfaction. The side entrance inHarbut Street, for instance, and the front room where patients would beinterviewed, and which had a window in Galvaston Terrace.
"It is so conspicuous, Marcus," she said, with legitimate pride in hervoice. "No one can overlook it, it is worth paying a few pounds morerent, instead of being jammed in between two terrace houses. HarbutStreet is ever so much nicer than Galvaston Terrace, and the houses arelarger, and it is so convenient having those shops opposite."
Olivia was disposed to see everything in _couleur de rose_, but to mostpeople Galvaston Terrace would have appeared woefully dingy. Two orthree of the houses had cards in the sitting-room windows, with"Desirable apartments for a single gentleman" affixed thereon, and atthe farther end a French dressmaker eked out a slender income.
The Terrace had by no means a prosperous look, a little fresh paint andcleaner blinds would have been improvements. Nevertheless, peoplelived out harmless lives there, and on the whole were tolerablycontented with their lot.
When Marcus Luttrell made that fatal mistake of marrying in haste andrepenting at leisure, things had not looked so badly with him. He hadbought his partnership and had a little money in hand, and Olivia hadhad sufficient for her modest trousseau. How could either of them havesuspected that the partnership was a deceit and a fraud--that old Dr.Slade had let Marcus in for a rotten concern--that no paying patientswould crowd the small dining-room--and that two years of professionalprofits would be represented in shillings? Now and then when he wastired and discouraged Dr. Luttrell would accuse himself of rashness andfolly in no measured terms.
"Your Aunt Madge is right, Olive," he would say, "we have been a coupleof fools; but I was the biggest. What business had I to temptProvidence in this way? I do believe when a man is in love he loseshis judgment; look at the life to which my selfishness has condemnedyou. You will be an old woman before your time, with the effort tomake a sixpence go as far as a shilling! And there is Dot----" Andhere the young doctor sighed and frowned, but Olivia, who had plenty ofspirit, refused to be depressed.
"You took me from such a luxurious home, did you not, Marcus?" shewould say, with a genial laugh. "A hard-working daily governess leadssuch an enjoyable life, and it was so exhilarating and refreshing tosit in one's lodgings of an evening, with no one to care if one weretired and dull. Yes, dear old boy, of course I was ever so muchhappier without you and Dot to worry me----" And, somehow, at thesecheering words the harassed frown on Marcus's brow relaxed.
Had he been so wrong after all. How could he know that old Slade wouldprove a rogue and a humbug; it would have been wiser to wait a little,but then human nature is liable to make mistakes, and in spite of itall, they had been so happy. Olive was such a splendid companion, shehad brains as well as heart. Yes, he had been a fool, but he knew thatunder like circumstances many a man would have done the same.
He remembered the events that had led to their hasty marriage. Oliviahad not long lost her mother, the widow's annuity had died with her,and Olivia, who had only her salary as a daily governess in a largefamily, had just moved into humbler lodgings.
He had gone round with some flowers and a book that he thought wouldinterest her, and as she came forward to greet him, he could see hereyes were red and swollen.
"What is it, dear?" he had asked, kindly, and then the poor girl hadutterly broken down.
"Oh, Marcus, what shall I do?" she said, when her sobs would allow herto speak. "I cannot bear it; it is all so dull and miserable. I ammissing mother and I am so tired, and the children have been so crossall day." And Olivia, whose nerves were on edge with the strain ofgrief and worry, looked so pallid and woebegone that Marcus had beenfilled with consternation. Never had he seen his sweetheart in suchdistress, and then it was that the suggestion came to him.
Why should they both be lonely? Olivia could marry him and do her workas well, and there need be no more dull evenings for either of them.
"You will trust me to make you as happy as I can, dearest," he said,tenderly, as he pleaded for an early marriage. And as Olivia listenedto him the sad burden seemed lifted from her heart.
"Are you quite sure we ought to do this, Marcus?" she had asked, alittle dubiously, for in spite of her youth she had plenty of goodsense, and then Marcus had been very ready with his arguments.
It was this last proviso that overcame Olivia's objections. If shecould keep her situation she would be no expense to Marcus. Her salarywas good, and until paying patients came she could subscribe towardsthe housekeeping.
It was just one of those arrangements that look so promising andplausible until fairly tried, but before many months had passed therewas a hitch--something out of gear in the daily machinery.
It was a dry summer, and Brompton is not exactly a bracing place.Olivia began to flag a little, the long hours of teaching, the hurriedwalks to and fro, tried her vigorous young frame. The little maids whofollowed each other in quick succession were all equally inefficientand unreliable. Marcus began to complain that such ill-cooked,tasteless meals would in time impair their digestion. The Marthas andAnnes and Sallies, who clumped heavily about the corner house, withsmudges on their round faces and bare red arms, had never heard of theSchool of Cookery at South Kensington. Olivia, fagged and weary,looked ready to cry when she saw the blackened steak and unwholesomechips set before Marcus. Not one man in a thousand, she thought, wouldhave borne it all so patiently.
Then one hot oppressive evening the climax came. Olivia, who had neverfainted in her life, found herself to her great astonishment lying onthe little couch by the open window with her face very wet, and Marcuslooking at her with grave professional eyes.
That night he spoke very plainly. There must be no more teaching.Olivia was simply killing herself, and he refused to sanction suchmadness any longer. In future he must be the only breadwinner. Untilpatients were obliging enough to send for him, they must just live ontheir little capital. Olivia must stay at home, and see after thingsand take care of herself, or he would not answer for the consequences.
"You have your husband to consider," he said, in a masterful tone, buthow absurdly boyish he looked, as he stood on the rug, tossing back aloose wave of fair hair from his forehead. People always thought Dr.Luttrell younger than he was in reality. He was eight-and-twenty, andOlivia was six years younger. She was rather taller than her husband,and had a slim erect figure. She had no claims to beauty; her featureswere too irregular, but her clear, honest eyes and sweet smile and acertain effective dimple redeemed her from plainness, and the softbrown hair waving naturally over the temples had a sunny gleam in it.
When baby Dot made her appearance--Dorothy Maud Luttrell, as she wasinscribed in the register--the young parents forgot their anxieties fora time in their joy in watching their first-born.
Marcus left his books to devote himself to nursing his pale wife backto health. And as Olivia lay on the couch with her baby near her, andfeasted on the delicacies that Aunt Madge's thoughtfulness hadprovided, or listened to Marcus as he read to her, it seemed to her, asthough the cup of her blessing were full.
"Oh, Marcus, how happy we are!" she would whisper, and Marcus wouldstifle a sigh bravely.
"Oh, Marcus, how happy we are!"]
Alas! he knew the little capital was dwindling sadly--rent and taxes,bread and cheese, and even the modest wages of a second Martha weredraining his purse too heavily. He had plenty of poor patients, but noone but the French dressmaker had yet sent for the late Dr. Slade'spartner. It was then that those careworn lines came to the youngdoctor's brow.
It was bitterly hard, for Marcus loved his profession, and had studiedhard. The poor people whom he attended were devoted to him.
"He allus tells a body the truth," said old Widow Bates. "I do hate afellow who truckles and minces his words like that Sparks. Do yousuppose Jem Arkwright would have let his leg be cut off in thatlamb-like manner if it had been Benjamin Sparks to do it?
"I was down at their place, and I heard when Dr. Luttrell said, 'Now,my man, you must just make up your mind, and be quick about it. Willyou be a brave chap and part with this poor useless limb, or will youleave your poor wife to bring up six fatherless children? I am tellingyou the truth, Jem. If you will not consent to part with your leg,there is no chance for you.' Laws' sakes, you would have thought hewas a grey-headed old fellow to hear him; it kind of made one jump tosee his young, beardless face; but there, he was good to Jem Arkwright,that he was. Polly can't say enough for him. She fairly cries if onementions his name.
"'I should have been Jem's widow but for Dr. Luttrell,' she said oneday. 'Why, before he came in Jem was lying there vowing "that he hadsooner die than part with his leg." It was the thought of the littleuns that broke him. My Jem always had a feeling heart.'"
And other folks, although they had not Widow Bates's garrulous tongue,were ready enough to sing the doctor's praises.
When Dot was a year old and able to pull herself up by the help of hermother's hand, things were no better at the corner house. Olivia hadeven consulted her Aunt Madge about the advisability of sending Marthaaway and doing the work of the house herself.
"Martha is the best girl we have had yet," she said. "Marcus ownedthat yesterday. She is rough, but her ways are nicer than Anne's orSally's, and she keeps herself clean; but then, Aunt Madge, she hassuch a good appetite, and one cannot stint growing girls."
"I should keep her a little longer," was Aunt Madge's reply to this."It will only take the heart out of Marcus, knowing that you have toscrub and black-lead stoves, and he is discouraged enough already.When Dot is able to run about, you may be able to dispense withMartha's services," and Olivia returned a reluctant assent to this.
But her conscience was not quite satisfied. Even Aunt Madge, shethought, hardly knew how bad things really were.
Mrs. Broderick was a chronic invalid, and never went beyond the tworooms that made her little world. Most people would have considered ita dull, narrow life, and one hardly worth living; but the invalid wouldhave contradicted this.
Madge Broderick had learned the secret of contentment; she had livedthrough great troubles--the loss of the husband she had idolised, andher only little child. Since then acute suffering that the doctors hadbeen unable to relieve had wasted her strength. Nevertheless, therewas a peaceful atmosphere in the sunshiny room, where she lay hourafter hour reading and working with her faithful companion Zoe besideher.
Zoe was a beautiful brown-and-white spaniel, with eyes that were almosthuman in their soft beseechingness, and Mrs. Broderick often lamentedthat she could not eulogise his doggish virtues as Mrs. Browning hadimmortalised her Flush.
Olivia was devoted to her Aunt Madge; they had a mutual admiration foreach other's character, and her sister's child was dear to Mrs.Broderick's heart, and perhaps the saddest hours she ever spent nowwere passed in thinking over the young couple's future.
"I was wrong," she would say to herself, with a painful contraction ofthe brow. "I said too little at the time to discourage their marriage;if I had been firm and reasoned with the child, she would have listenedto me. Livy is always so manageable, but I was a romantic old goose!And then she was in love, poor dear! And now--oh, it breaks one'sheart to see their young anxious faces! I know so well what Marcusfeels; he is ready to go out into the roads and break stones if he canonly keep a roof over his wife's head." And there were tears in MadgeBroderick's eyes as she took up her work.
