"Fares, please!"
The omnibus conductor stood in front of a lady, young, and not
ill-looking, and waited. As he waited he flicked his packet of tickets
with the forefinger of his right hand. The lady addressed seemed to
experience some difficulty in finding the sum required. She felt in a
bag which was hanging at her waist. She dived into the recesses of a
pocket which was apparently placed in an even more inaccessible
position than a lady's pocket is wont to be. Without result. Her
proceedings attracted the attention of all her fellow-passengers; and
the 'bus was full;--indeed, her man[oe]uvres were the cause of some
inconvenience to her immediate neighbours. At last she delivered
herself of a piece of information.
"I've lost my purse!"
The conducter eyed her stolidly. He was not so young as he had been.
Possibly a long experience of 'bus conducting had brought him into
intimate relations with ladies who did lose things; so that his
sympathies were dulled.
"Lost your purse?"
He echoed her words as if the matter was not of the slightest interest
to him.
"Yes;--that is, I had it when I came into the 'bus;--I'm afraid it has
been stolen."
"Stolen?" echoed the conductor;--still with an air of complete
indifference.
"Yes," said an old man, who was on the seat opposite, at the end
farthest from the door; "and that man sitting by you is the man as took
it."
Since Bruce Palliser was the only man sitting by her the allusion could
only be to him. He turned on the speaker in surprise.
"Are you suggesting, sir, that I have stolen the lady's purse?"
"That's it; that's what I'm suggesting. Only it's more than a
suggestion. I see you fumbling with the lady's skirt. I wondered what
you was up to. Now I know."
A woman sitting on the other side of the purseless lady interposed.
"Here's a penny, if that's any good;--or, for the matter of that,
here's twopence. It's not nice for any of us to be crowded in the same
'bus with parties who say they've had their purses stolen."
"I'm afraid it isn't," admitted the sufferer. "I'm very sorry,
but--all my money was in my purse. If you would let me have a penny I
should be very much obliged."
The penny was forthcoming.
"Do you make any charge?" inquired the conductor, as he handed over the
ticket in exchange.
"No," rejoined the lady. "I do not."
"He's got it on him now," asserted the old gentleman in the corner. "If
you'll hand him over to a policeman you'll find he has."
"I trust," exclaimed Mr Palliser, "that you'll afford me an opportunity
to prove that what this person says is absolutely false."
The young lady stood up.
"Please stop the 'bus. I'm going to get out."
"You call a policeman," persisted the old gentleman. "You'll soon find
where your purse is."
"But, madam!" cried Mr Palliser. The 'bus stopped. The young lady began
to move towards the door. Bruce Palliser following, appealing to her as
he did so. "Madam!--if you will give me your attention for a single
instant!"
The young lady alighted. Mr Palliser alighted also. The 'bus went on.
"I see him take it," announced the old gentleman in the corner. "Put it
in his pocket, I believe he did."
Bruce Palliser, standing in the roadway, tried to induce the young lady
to give him a chance to establish his innocence.
"If you will permit me to explain who I am, I will make it quite clear
to you--"
She cut him short.
"Have the kindness not to address me."
She climbed into a passing hansom. He had to spring to one side to
avoid being cut down by a furniture van. By the time the van had gone
the cab had gone also.
Later in the day he rushed into the station with just time enough to
enable him to catch the train which was to take him home. He had
already entered a compartment before he realised that a seat near the
door was occupied by the young lady of the omnibus. The recognition was
obviously mutual. Something in her attitude made him conscious of a
ridiculous sense of discomfort. He felt that if he did not leave the
carriage she would--although the train was about to start. Scrambling
back on to the platform he was hustled into another compartment by an
expostulating guard. When the train stopped at Market Hinton, and he
got out, he observed that the young lady of the omnibus was emerging
from the compartment from which he had retreated with so small a show
of dignity. Apparently she also had reached her journey's end. He
thought he knew most of the people who lived thereabouts, at least by
sight. He had certainly never seen her before. Who could she be?
Stupidly enough he hung about the station, allowing himself to be
buttonholed by an old countryman who was full of his sufferings from
rheumatism--one of that large tribe with which every doctor is
familiar, the members of which never lose a chance of obtaining medical
advice for nothing. He was not in the best of tempers by the time that
he reached home. Nor was his temper improved by the greeting which he
received from Jack Griffiths, who had acted as his _locum_ during his
enforced absence in London.
"You're not looking any better for your change," declared Jack, who had
an unfortunate--and exasperating--knack of seeing the pessimistic side
of things. "You're looking all mops and brooms."
"I'm not feeling all mops and brooms--whatever state of feeling that
may be. On the contrary, I'm feeling as fit as I ever felt in the whole
of my life."
"Then you're not looking it; which is a pity. Because it's my opinion
that you'll want all the stock of health you can lay your hands on if
you're to continue to hold your own in Market Hinton."
"What might you happen to mean?--you old croaker!"
"It's easy to call me a croaker, sir, but facts are facts; and I tell
you that that new doctor's making things hum--cutting the grass from
under your very feet."
"What new doctor?"
"The new doctor. I wasn't aware that there was more than one. If there
is then you're in greater luck even than I thought you were."
"Are you alluding to that female creature?"
"I am. I am alluding to Dr Constance Hughes, M.D. (London). Mrs Vickers
is of opinion that she's a first-rate doctor."
"Mrs Vickers!--Why, she's one of my oldest patients."
"Precisely; which is perhaps one reason why she feels disposed to try a
change. Anyhow she called Dr Constance Hughes in one day, when that
medical lady happened to be passing; and I'm inclined to think that, if
she could only see her way, she'd like to call her in again."
"Pretty unprofessional conduct! What does the woman mean by it?"
"Which woman? Dr Constance Hughes? She's nothing to do with it. She had
to go in when they stopped her on the high road; but, from what I
understand, when she learnt that Mrs Vickers was your patient she
declined to call again. Than her conduct nothing could have been more
professional. But it isn't only Mrs Vickers. I hear golden opinions of
her on every side. And she drives some of the finest horses I ever
saw."
"So I've been told. Thank goodness, so far I've seen neither the woman
nor her horses; but if half they say is true, she knows more of horse
flesh than of medicine."
"Then, in that case, she must be a dabster. Heaps of money, I'm
informed; taken up the profession simply for the sake of something to
do, and because she loves it. Bruce, Dr Constance Hughes is going to be
a dangerous rival!"
Such, ere long, was to be Bruce Palliser's own opinion.
When, the following afternoon, he returned from his rounds, he learned
that an urgent summons had come for him, earlier in the day, from Mrs
Daubeny, one of his most influential patients. He hurried round to her.
On his arrival at the house the maid who opened the door informed him
that the other doctor was upstairs. As he had not come, and Mrs Daubeny
was in such pain, they had sent for other assistance. While she was
speaking, the maid conducted him upstairs. Opening a door, she ushered
him in, announcing his appearance.
"Dr Palliser."
He found himself in a bedroom, with someone lying in the bed, and two
women standing on either side of it. One of the women he recognised as
Foster, Mrs Daubeny's housekeeper; and the other--as the lady of the
omnibus. He stared at her in blank amazement. Although she had her hat
on, her sleeves were turned up, and she was holding in her hand what
he perceived to be a clinical thermometer. Foster went--awkwardly
enough--through a form of introduction.
"Oh, Dr Palliser, I'm so glad you've come! This is Miss Hughes--I mean
Dr Hughes. Mrs Daubeny has been so bad that if she hadn't come I don't
know what we should have done."
Mr Palliser bowed; so stiffly that the inclination of his head only
just amounted to a movement. The lady was as stiff. Although she looked
him full in the face there was that in the quality of her glance which
almost hinted that she did not notice he was there. She explained the
position, in a tone of voice which could hardly have been more frigid.
"Mrs Daubeny has had an attack of acute laryngitis, rather a severe
one. Fortunately, however, the worst is over; unless, that is, it
should recur."
"I am obliged to you. I have had the honour to treat Mrs Daubeny on
former occasions. I will see that all is done that is necessary."
The lady returned her thermometer to its case. She turned down her
sleeves. She donned a sable jacket which Mr Palliser could not but feel
was not unbecoming. With the curtest possible nod to the newcomer she
quitted the room.
At his solitary meal that night, the more Bruce Palliser turned matters
over in his mind the less he liked them.
"This is a nice kettle of fish! To think of her being Dr Constance
Hughes! For all I know she may actually be of opinion that it was I who
stole her purse--as that lying old scoundrel asserted--I should like to
wring his neck! She wouldn't condescend to even give me a hearing; the
vixen! She has a first-rate tale to tell against me, anyhow. Why, if
she chooses to tell everyone that someone stole her purse, and that
there was a man in the omnibus who declared he saw me take it, I
sha'n't even be able to bring an action for slander; the thing is true
enough. I ought to have dragged that old ruffian out by the hair of his
head, and made him own then and there that he lied. I've half a mind to
write to her and insist on her giving me an opportunity to explain. But
she wouldn't do it; she's that kind of woman. I know it! I could see by
the way she treated me this afternoon that she means to get her knife
into me--and well in, too. A male rival is bad enough--I've had one or
two passages-of-arms with old Harford--but a female--and such a female!
I may as well announce my practice for sale while there's any of it
left to sell. That woman won't leave a stone unturned to ruin me!"
During the next few days he was destined to hear more of Dr Constance
Hughes than he cared for. She seemed to have impressed other people a
good deal more favourably than she had him. Market Hinton is in the
centre of a hunting country. The fact that she had quite a string of
first-rate horses, and that she could handle the "ribbons" as well as
any coachman, and had an excellent seat in a saddle, appealed to the
local imagination in an especial degree. To be a "good sportsman" meant
much at Market Hinton; of anyone who reached that high standard they
could think no evil. Bruce Palliser found that, because Dr Constance
Hughes had hunters who, with her on them, could hold their own in any
country, and in any company, people were taking it for granted that her
medical qualifications must necessarily be unimpeachable.
Old Rawlins, of "The King's Head," put the case in a nutshell.
"She drives a mare that would win a prize at any show in England; and
it does you good to see the way she drives her. That mare wants some
driving! I say that a woman who can handle a horse like she can handle
that mare ought to be able to handle anything. She shall have the
handling of Mrs Rawlins the next time she's ill; I'll have her sent
for."
Bruce Palliser was to make the close acquaintance of the mare in
question before very long, and in a fashion which did not tend to give
him such a high opinion of the creature as Mr Rawlins possessed.
Just as he was preparing for dinner a call came to a patient who lived
the other side of the town. His stable only contained one horse, and
that had already done a good day's work. Taking out his bicycle he
proceeded to the patient's house on that. He was not detained long.
Glancing at his watch as he was about to return he perceived that if he
made haste he would not be so very late for dinner after all, and would
have a chance of getting something to eat before everything was
spoiled. So he bowled along at a pace which was considerably above the
legal limit. It was bright moonlight. Until he reached Woodcroft, the
residence of Dr Constance Hughes, he had the road practically all to
himself.
Woodcroft was a corner house. As he neared it he became suddenly
conscience that a vehicle was coming along the road which bounded it on
one side. As he came to the corner the vehicle swept round it. He had
just time to see that it was a high dog-cart, and that Dr Constance
Hughes was driving. For some reason the discovery caused him to lose
his head. Forgetting that he was riding a free wheel, instead of
jamming on the brakes he tried to back pedal. Before he had realised
his mistake he was under the horse's hoofs, and the dog-cart had passed
right over him.
Mr Palliser was conscious that the startled animal first reared, then
bolted--or rather, tried to. Fortunately her master sat behind her in
the shape of her mistress. Not only was she brought to a standstill,
but, in less than half a minute, Dr Constance Hughes had descended from
the dog-cart, and was kneeling at Mr Palliser's side.
Her first remark was scarcely sympathetic.
"You ought to have rung your bell," she said.
"I hadn't a bell to ring," he retorted.
"Then you never ought to come out without one, as you're very well
aware. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong."
He proved that there was nothing wrong by quietly fainting in the
middle of the road.
"What's up?" was the first remark which he made when he returned to
consciousness. "What's happened? Where am I? What on earth--"
He stopped, to groan with pain, and to recognise the futility of an
attempt to sit upright. He lay still, looking about him with wide-open
eyes. He was in bed--not his own, but someone else's. And in someone
else's room; one, moreover, which was strange to him. On one side stood
Dr Constance Hughes; behind her was that very general practitioner and
ancient rival--Joseph Harford. It was the lady who replied.
"As to where you are, you're in my house. And you've come back to your
senses just in time to let us know if you would like your leg cut off."
"My leg?"
"I said your leg. At present it's a question of that only. It may be
necessary to proceed further later on."
"What do you mean?"
Bruce Palliser was conscious that his right leg was subjecting him to
so much agony that beads of sweat stood on his brow.
"Compound fracture. Tibia and peroneal both broken. Mr Harford is of
opinion that the only thing is to amputate at once."
"Is he? I'm much obliged."
"I say no."
"Do you?"
"I do. I say they can be set, being of opinion that it's worth while
risking something on the off chance of being able to save your leg,
since it's better to go about with two than one."
Mr Harford shook his head.
"I've had my say; having done so I wash my hands of all responsibility.
If we amputate at once your life will not be endangered. If there is
any postponement we may not be able to operate at all; you may lose
your life and your leg."
"That is your opinion?"
"It is--emphatically."
"Then I'll keep my leg. Set it." He closed his eyes, he had to, the
pain just then was so exquisite. Presently he opened them again to
address the lady pointedly. "_You_ set it."
"I intend to. Would you like an anæsthetic? It won't be pleasant."
"No."
"Then grit your teeth. I'll be as quick as I can; but I'm afraid you'll
have a pretty bad time."
He gritted his teeth, and he had a pretty bad time. But through it all
he recognised that the work was being done by a workman, with skill and
judgment, with as much delicacy also as the thing permitted. He had not
thought that such a slip of a girl could have had such strength or
courage. When the task was over she gave what sounded like a gratified
sigh.
"That's done. You've behaved like a man."
"And you're a surgeon born."
That was all he could mutter. Then he swooned, unconsciousness
supervened; he had come to the end of his tether.
The bad time continued longer than he cared to count. The days slipped
by, and still he lay in that bed. One morning he asked her,--
"How's it going?"
"As well as can be expected; better perhaps. But this is not going to
be a five minutes' job--you know better than that?"
"I ought to have let old Harford cut it off; I should have made a
quicker recovery."
"Nonsense. In that case you would never, in the real sense of the word,
have recovered at all. Now there's every probability of your being as
sound as ever. You only want time. There's no inflammation; the wound
keeps perfectly sweet. You've a fine physique; you've lived cleanly. I
counted upon these things when I took the chances."
Two days afterwards he broached another matter.
"You know I can't stop here. I'm putting you to tremendous expense, and
no end of inconvenience. The idea's monstrous. I'm ashamed of myself
for having stopped so long. You must have me put into the ambulance at
once and carted home."
"You will stay where you are. I'm in charge of this case. I decline to
allow you to be moved."
"But--!"
"But me no buts. As your medical adviser I refuse to permit of any
interference. In such a matter you of all persons ought to set a good
example."
He was silent. Not only was he helpless and too weak for argument, but
there was in her manner an air of peremptory authority before which he
positively quailed. Yet, the next day, he returned to the attack.
"I don't want there to be any misunderstanding between us, so please
realise that I'm quite aware that the accident was entirely my fault,
that you were in no way to blame, and that therefore you are not in any
sense responsible for my present position."
"I know that as well as you do. You ought to have had a bell; no
bicyclist ought to be without a bell, especially at night. I did not
hear you coming, but you heard me; yet you ran right into me although
you heard."
"I lost my head."
"You lost something.
"Therefore I wish to emphasise the fact that I have not the slightest
right to encroach upon your hospitality, or your time, or your
services."
"Does that mean that you would rather dispense with the latter? Or are
you merely again trying to display a refractory spirit?"
"I'm not doing anything of the kind. I simply don't wish to take
advantage of your--your generosity."
"Generosity? My good sir, you are mistaken. Yours is an interesting
case. I flatter myself that not everybody could have saved that leg of
yours. You know how seldom one gets an interesting case at Market
Hinton; I mean to make the best of this one now I've got it. You'll
regard this as a hospital. And you'll stay in it, as patiently as your
nature permits, until, in due course, you receive your discharge."
There was silence. He watched her while she adjusted fresh bandages. He
thought that he had never seen work of the kind more deftly done. As
she bent over him he noticed what a dainty profile she had, and what
beautiful hands. Presently he spoke again.
"Miss Hughes--"
"Dr Hughes, if you please. I didn't proceed to my M.D. degree for
nothing."
"I beg your pardon. Dr Hughes, what has become of my patients while
I've been lying here?"
"I've been taking them. Do you object?"
"Object! Indeed, no; only--I'm afraid--"
He stopped.
"Yes? What are you afraid of?"
"Nothing; that is--I hardly know how you'll take it."
"What are you afraid of?"
"Only that, when they've once tried you, they won't care to return to
me."
"That's it, is it? I thought so. Do you take me to be that kind of
person? I'm extremely obliged."
"You're quite mistaken. I didn't mean it in that way at all, as you
know. I meant it for a clumsy compliment."
"It's a kind of clumsy compliment I don't care about, thank you very
much."
"But, professionally, you are infinitely cleverer than I am."
"Professionally, I am nothing of the kind. It's not fair of you to
laugh at me. Wherever I go people tell me how skilful you are,
especially those who know. Besides, you need have no fear of
illegitimate competition. It is not likely that I shall remain in
Market Hinton."
He started.
"You are not going away?"
"I am, most probably. I only came here as an experiment; from my point
of view it is an experiment which has failed."
He was still, to speak again after another interval. A more serious
note was in his speech.
"Dr Hughes, when that man in the omnibus said I had stolen your purse,
did you believe him?"
"I did not."
"Not for an instant?"
"Not for a single instant. And that for the best of reasons; my purse
had not been stolen. I could have bitten my tongue off directly I had
allowed myself to hint that it might have been; because it instantly
occurred to me that it was well within the range of possibility that I
had left it behind me at a shop at which I had been making some
purchases. I drove straight back to the shop, and there it was."
"Why didn't you allow me to explain?"
"There was nothing for you to explain. As a matter of fact the
explanation would have had to come from me, and I was in too bad a
temper for that. Women have a reputation for making spectacles of
themselves in that particular fashion; it didn't please me to think
that I'd fallen in line with my sisters." She added, after a pause:
"You've no notion what a vile temper I have."
"I doubt if it's such a very bad one."
"You doubt? You don't! You, of all people, ought to know what kind of
temper I've got."
He smiled enigmatically.
"I do."
It was some time afterwards, when he had advanced to the dignity of an
easy-chair and a leg-rest, that some of the points of that conversation
were touched on again. It was he who began.
"Dr Hughes."
"_Doctor_ Palliser?"
The emphasis which she laid upon the "Doctor" was most pronounced.
"Pardon me, I am not a doctor, I am a mere F.R.C.S."
"Is it necessary that you should always 'Doctor' me?"
"Pardon me again. I remember an occasion when you went a little out of
your way to make it plain to me that you had not proceeded to your M.D.
degree for nothing."
"You needn't always flaunt that in my face."
"I won't, since you appear to have changed your mind--until you change
it again." She looked at him, with a gleam in her eyes which was half
laughter, half something else. He went on: "At the same time, since
what I have to say to you is strictly professional, I don't think that,
on this occasion, the 'Doctor' Hughes will be out of place. You once
said to me that you had some vague intention of not remaining in Market
Hinton."
"It wasn't a vague intention then; it is less vague now. I am going."
"That is a pity."
"Why? It will be all the better for you; one competitor less."
"I am afraid I don't see it altogether in that light. You see, I was
thinking of taking a partner."
"A partner?"
"Exactly, a partner. The practice was getting a little beyond me. When
I am able to move about again, as I soon shall be, thanks to you, it
may get beyond me again. Now what would you say to taking a partner?"
"I! What! Bring another woman here?"
"No, I was not thinking of that. Indeed, I was not thinking of a woman
at all. I was thinking of a man."
"A man!"
"I was thinking of myself."
"You! Mr Palliser!"
"Why shouldn't we--you and I--be partners? Miss Hughes--Dr
Constance"--suddenly, as he went on she looked down--"don't you think
that it is possible that we might work together? That an arrangement
might be made which--would be agreeable to us both?"
"Of course--there is always a possibility."
"Don't you think that, in this instance, there's a probability?"
"There might be."
"Don't you feel that such an arrangement would be, from all possible
points of view, a desirable one? I do; I feel it strongly."
"Do you?"
"Don't you?" She was silent; so he continued, "I'd give all I have in
the world, all I hope to have, to hear you say that you'd like us to be
partners."
She looked up at him.
"I'd like to have--you for a partner," she said.