Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 02
General
Wilson's Tales of the Borders and of Scotland, Volume 02
Scottish Borders (Scotland) -- Fiction
She paused, and seemed much exhausted by the struggle she made to let
me thus far into her history. The concluding part of her statement,
combined with the still unexplained secrecy of my call, surprised me,
and defied my powers of penetration. This lady had been dangerously ill
for a month, during all which time no medical man had been called to
her aid; and even now, when her body was attenuated, and her strength
exhausted to the uttermost, professional assistance had been introduced
into the house by stealth, as if it were against the laws to ameliorate
human sufferings by curing diseases. This apparent anomaly in human
conduct struck me so forcibly that I could not refrain from asking the
patient, even before she recovered strength enough to answer me, what
was her or her husband's reason for not calling assistance; and why that
assistance was at last requested under the cloud of secrecy and
apprehension.
"That I intended to explain to you," she said, after a pause. "When I
felt myself ill (and my complaint commenced by excruciating pains in my
stomach, accompanied with vomiting), I told my husband that I feared it
would be necessary to call a doctor; but, ah, sir! the very thought
of the necessity of medical aid to the object of so much love and
tenderness, put him almost frantic. He confessed that it was a weakness;
but declared his inability to conquer it. Yet, alas! his unremitting
kindness has not diminished my disease. Though I have taken everything
his solicitude has suggested and offered to me, my pains still continue,
my appetite is entirely gone, and the weakness of my body has approached
that of the helpless infant. Three days ago I thought I would have
breathed my last; and parting thoughts of my native country, and the
dear friends I left there to follow the fortunes of a dearer stranger,
passed through my mind with the feeling of a long and everlasting
farewell. My husband wept over me, and prayed for my recovery; but he
could not think me so ill as to make the call of the doctor imperative;
and I did not press a subject which I saw was painful to him. No, sir,
I would rather have died than have produced in him the slightest
uneasiness; and my object in calling you in the secret manner you have
witnessed, was simply to avoid causing to him the pain of thinking that
my illness was so great as to render your services absolutely
necessary."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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