England -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century
Janet was as far as ever from looking handsome or pretty, but it must
have been a dullard who proclaimed her face unpleasing. She had eyes of
remarkable intelligence, something like Marcella's but milder, more
benevolent. Her lips were softly firm; they would not readily part in
laughter; their frequent smile meant more than that of the woman who
sets herself to be engaging.
'I am on my way home,' she said, 'from a holiday in the South,--an
enforced holiday, I'm sorry to say.'
'You have been ill?'
'Overworked a little. I am practising medicine in Kingsmill.'
Christian did not disguise his astonishment.
'Medicine?'
'You don't remember that I always had scientific tastes?'
If it was a reproach, none could have been more gently administered.
'Of course--of course I do! Your botany, your skeletons of birds and
cats and mice--of course! But where did you study?'
'In London. The Women's Medical School. I have been in practice for
nearly four years.'
'And have overworked yourself.--But why are we standing? Let us sit
down and talk. How is your father?'
Marcella was watching her brother closely, and with a curious smile.
Janet remained for another hour. No reference was made to the long
rupture of intercourse between her family and these relatives.
Christian learnt that his uncle was still hale, and that Janet's four
sisters all lived, obviously unmarried. To-day he was disposed to be
almost affectionate with anyone who showed him a friendly face: he
expressed grief that his cousin must leave for Twybridge early in the
morning.
'Whenever you pass through the Midlands,' was Janet's indirect reply,
addressed to Marcella, 'try to stop at Kingsmill.'
And a few minutes after that she took her leave. There lingered behind
her that peculiar fragrance of modern womanhood, refreshing,
inspiriting, which is so entirely different from the merely feminine
perfume, however exquisite.
'What a surprising visit!' was Christian's exclamation, when he and his
sister were alone. 'How did she find us?'
'Directory, I suppose.'
'A lady doctor!' he mused.
'And a very capable one, I fancy,' said Marcella. 'We had nearly an
hour's talk before you came. But she won't be able to stand the work.
There'll be another breakdown before long.'
'Has she a large practice, then?'
'Not very large, perhaps; but she studies as well. I never dreamt of
Janet becoming so interesting a person.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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