London (England) -- Fiction; Russians -- England -- Fiction
Then Mrs Fludger dashed cold water in the patient's face, slapped
her hands with a vigour that would have brought tears to her eyes
had she been conscious, and made a horrible smell with the benzoline
lamp and a pigeon's feather hastily begged from a lodger who had
leanings ornithological. Alice showing no signs of being affected
by the application of these generally efficacious remedies, Mrs
Fludger decided that this was a case of 'going off' quite beyond her
experience, and feeling the responsibility too much to be borne alone,
she despatched her third son in quest of a doctor, regardless of Miss
Jenny's opinion that the lodger was 'shamming.' Joe Fludger was not
particularly pleased at being sent. He was busy just then shaking up a
mangy kitten and a recently-acquired guinea-pig in a box, with a view
of getting them to fight, which they showed no signs of doing, and
he did not care to relinquish this enthralling pastime until he had
compassed his end. He put his two 'pets' into one pocket, hoping that
that position would urge them to fulfil their destiny and have it out,
and as he met several friends, and felt it incumbent on him to exhibit
his treasures to each of them, it was some time before he carried out
his instructions, and brought medical science, as represented by Dr
Moore, to 15 Spray's Buildings. But even when the doctor did at last
stand by her bedside, Alice was still insensible.
He raised her eyelids, felt her pulse, asked one or two brief
questions, and then stood holding her hand till she sighed, and moved
slightly.
'She's coming round,' he said. 'Not married, I see,' he added, glancing
at the hand he held, on which shone no golden circle, not even the
brass substitute which takes its place occasionally, when times are
very hard.
'Not as I ever heard of,' said Miss Jenny with a toss of the net, which
drew down upon her a glance of disapproval from the old doctor, and a
sharp recommendation from her mother to go downstairs. 'Give the girl
air; there's too many of us here a'ready.'
Miss Fludger withdrew with a gesture expressive of a sovereign contempt
for faints in general, and this collapse in particular.
'How does this poor thing get her living?' asked the doctor; 'she looks
as if she got it honestly.' He, being an observant man, glanced as he
spoke at the roughened forefinger of her left hand, and then round the
bare, dreary attic.
'Lord! doctor, how should I know? Do you think I puts all my lodgers
through their cataclysm before I takes 'em in?' said Mrs Fludger,
with some general recollection of the days when she went to Sunday
school. Mrs Fludger did not always manage to hit on the right word to
express the meaning she intended to convey, but she always found a word
something like the right one, and a word which really had a place in
the English dictionary; she had a rare dexterity in the finding of such
words, and a fine confidence in the use of them, which made them answer
her purpose admirably.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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