Doctor Luttrell's First PatientCarey, Rosa Nouchette
General
Doctor Luttrell's First Patient
Carey, Rosa Nouchette
Fiction; Love stories
"Oh, she is wonderful!" she returned, earnestly. "I never met any one
like her. She is the bravest woman I know. Even the Vicar says so.
Don't you love pluck, Mr. Gaythorne? So few people are plucky in that
sense. Aunt Madge has lost everything she cares for--husband and child
and health; but she bears it all so beautifully, and makes the best of
things. I could not help thinking of her when I saw all those lovely
flowers; she simply dotes on flowers! There are always some on her
little table; flowers and books, those are her sole pleasures."
"What on earth made you hold forth on Aunt Madge's virtues, you absurd
child?" was Marcus's comment when Olivia repeated this portion of her
conversation. "Fancy entertaining Mr. Gaythorne with an account of
your relations!"--and Olivia blushed guiltily.
"It does sound odd if you put it in that way, Marcus," she returned;
"but when I saw all those beautiful flowers, Aunt Madge just jumped
into my head, and I always do speak out my thoughts so. But I could
see he was interested. He said little sharp sneering things at first,
but afterwards he questioned me a good deal. Oh, we got on splendidly!
He began asking me about ourselves, and if you had much of a practice.
Oh, he said it quite nicely!" as Marcus dropped the loaf he was cutting
and frowned anxiously. "He was quite gentlemanly, and only hinted at
things; but I understood him, of course."
"And you told him, I suppose, that he was my first patient," in an
annoyed tone. "You may as well own it, Livy; you are honest enough
even for that," and there was no denying that Marcus's voice was
decidedly sarcastic. With all her virtues Olivia never did know when
to hold her tongue.
"Oh, Marcus dear, how could I help it," replied Olivia, nervously. "Of
course I had to tell him that we were just beginners, and how Dr. Slade
had deceived us; that there was no redress, as he was dead. But I told
him, too, how hard you worked among the poor---- He did not say much.
I don't think he is a great talker, but he stroked that funny beard of
his and nodded his head. Then when Mrs. Crampton came up he told her
to bring coffee, and he made me stay and pour it out for him. There
was such a lovely chased coffee-pot and cream-jug, and such delicious
cakes, and when I said at last that I must go he thanked me quite
pleasantly. 'It is long since I have been so well amused, and I hope
you will come and see me again.' Yes, he said that, Marcus, so I am
sure he did not mind my frankness. But oh, dear! he quite forgot to
tell Mrs. Crampton to cut me some flowers."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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