England -- Fiction; London (England) -- Fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction
"I tell you honestly," the doctor said, "I'm so overworked that I
should be quite satisfied to step into my coffin and not wake again.
I've had three 3 A. M. midwifery cases this week--forceps, chloroform,
and the whole bag of tricks--on the top of all this influenza, and I'm
about sick of it. That's the worst of our trade; it comes in lumps.
What do you say, nurse?"
CHAPTER XVII
The nurse suggested that Richard should remain at Carteret Street for
the rest of the night, using the sofa in the sitting-room. Contrary
to his expectation, he slept well and dreamlessly for several hours,
and woke up refreshed and energetic. The summer sun was dispersing a
light mist. One thought occupied his mind,--Adeline's isolation and
need of succour. Mentally he enveloped her with tender solicitude; and
the prospect of giving her instant aid, and so earning her gratitude,
contributed to a mood of vigorous cheerfulness to which his sorrow for
Mr. Aked's death formed but a vague and distant background.
No one seemed to be stirring. He washed luxuriously in the little
scullery, and then, silently unbolting the front door, went out for a
walk. It was just six o'clock, and above the weazen trees which line
either side of Carteret Street the sparrows were noisily hilarious. As
he strode along in the fresh, sunny air, his fancy pictured scene after
scene between himself and Adeline in which he rendered a man's help and
she offered a woman's gratitude. He determined to take upon himself
all the arrangements for the funeral, and looked forward pleasurably
to activities from which under different circumstances he would have
shrunk with dismay. He thought of Adeline's aunt or cousin, distant in
the north, and wondered whether she or any other relatives, if such
existed, would present themselves; he hoped that Adeline might be
forced to rely solely on him. A milkboy who passed with his rattling
cans observed Richard talking rapidly to no visible person, and turned
round to stare.
When he got back to the house, he noticed that the blinds had been
drawn in the sitting-room. Lottie, the chubby-armed servant, was
cleaning the step; her eyes were red with crying.
"Is nurse up yet?" he asked her.
"Yes, sir, she's in the kitchen," the girl whimpered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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