Round the Red Lamp: Being Facts and Fancies of Medical LifeDoyle, Arthur Conan
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Round the Red Lamp: Being Facts and Fancies of Medical Life
Doyle, Arthur Conan
Medical fiction; Physicians -- Fiction
"Speak for yourself, James," said the London man with a sniff. "But
apart from that, you know that the principle of the thing is all wrong."
"You think there is nothing to be said on the other side?"
"Good heavens! do you?"
"Well, I don't know. It struck me during the night that we may have
been a little narrow in our views."
"Nonsense, James. It's all very fine for women to win prizes in the
lecture room, but you know as well as I do that they are no use in an
emergency. Now I warrant that this woman was all nerves when she was
setting your leg. That reminds me that I had better just take a look
at it and see that it is all right."
"I would rather that you did not undo it," said the patient. "I have
her assurance that it is all right."
Brother William was deeply shocked.
"Of course, if a woman's assurance is of more value than the opinion of
the assistant surgeon of a London hospital, there is nothing more to be
said," he remarked.
"I should prefer that you did not touch it," said the patient firmly,
and Dr. William went back to London that evening in a huff.
The lady, who had heard of his coming, was much surprised on learning
his departure.
"We had a difference upon a point of professional etiquette," said Dr.
James, and it was all the explanation he would vouchsafe.
For two long months Dr. Ripley was brought in contact with his rival
every day, and he learned many things which he had not known before.
She was a charming companion, as well as a most assiduous doctor. Her
short presence during the long, weary day was like a flower in a sand
waste. What interested him was precisely what interested her, and she
could meet him at every point upon equal terms. And yet under all her
learning and her firmness ran a sweet, womanly nature, peeping out in
her talk, shining in her greenish eyes, showing itself in a thousand
subtle ways which the dullest of men could read. And he, though a bit
of a prig and a pedant, was by no means dull, and had honesty enough to
confess when he was in the wrong.
"I don't know how to apologise to you," he said in his shame-faced
fashion one day, when he had progressed so far as to be able to sit in
an arm-chair with his leg upon another one; "I feel that I have been
quite in the wrong."
"Why, then?"
"Over this woman question. I used to think that a woman must
inevitably lose something of her charm if she took up such studies."
"Oh, you don't think they are necessarily unsexed, then?" she cried,
with a mischievous smile.
"Please don't recall my idiotic expression."
"I feel so pleased that I should have helped in changing your views. I
think that it is the most sincere compliment that I have ever had paid
me."
"At any rate, it is the truth," said he, and was happy all night at the
remembrance of the flush of pleasure which made her pale face look
quite comely for the instant.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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