Beck Center English Dept. University Libraries Emory University
Emory Women Writers Resource Project Collections:
Women's Genre Fiction Project

An Adventuress, an electronic edition

by L.T. Meade [ Meade, L.T., 1854-1914]

date: 1899
source publisher: Chatto & Windus
collection: Genre Fiction

Table of Contents

<< chapter 1 chapter 42 >>

Display page layout

| | 206

CHAPTER XXI

ABOUT seven o'clock on the following morning Kate rose and partly dressed. She opened the door of her room, crossed the corridor, and tapped at her husband's door. He did not hear her. She turned the handle, found that the door was not locked, and entered.

Henley started up in bed when he saw her.

"My darling Kitty, what is the matter? You look worse than ever."

"I have spent a sleepless night, Ralph, and have much to say. Do dress and come into my room; I want to talk to you."

"Certainly, dearest."

Henley entered Kate's room in about five minutes. He was fully dressed. Kate herself had returned to bed. He sat down by her and took one of her hands in his; he began to stroke the soft fingers.

"My dearest, how thin your hand is getting!"

"Oh no, Ralph; you are really imagining." Kate held up her somewhat plump hand and looked at it, then she burst into one of her old merry laughs.

"Ah! that sounds good," said the young man; "it cheers me. Kitty, I have lived through a miserable forty-eight hours. Ever since Sir John Fenton-Douglas appeared on the scene I have been too wretched for words."

"I know why you are wretched," said Kate. | | 207 "Because you think that I shall die." She moved towards the edge of the bed and laid her head on her husband's shoulder.

"If you die, I shall die," he said--either die or go mad. You are all my world. I have loved you for almost the whole of my life, and, Kitty, I cannot live without you."

"You shall not live without me, Ralph; you shall live with me, and we'll be happy as the day is long. But now I want you to listen, darling."

"What is it you are going to coax me to do?"

"Ralph, I do not wish to see that horrid man doctor. I won't see him."

"What, Martin Hewitt? But how do you know he is horrid? He is probably most kind, most sympathetic."

"I do not wish for either his sympathy or his kindness. I won't see him--I can't see him.

"But, Kitty, Kitty--your promise! Kitty, you compel me to be harsh with you." A tremor of real distress had now come into the young man's voice.

"But oh, darling Ralph, if you would but listen. I hate all doctors; I don't believe in them. That man, Sir John Fenton-Douglas, was simply odious. If I had believed in him I should be dead by now. But I had the courage--yes, the courage--to pull myself together, and here I am quite well--or almost quite well. Oh, you may call me unreasonable if you life, but I hate all doctors."

"You certainly are unreasonable, Kitty; and, what is more, you must overcome your unreasonableness, for see Martin Hewitt you shall."

"There you spoke like my master, and I love you | | 208 for it. But do, do listen. I know I am all contradictions. I am your brave and devoted Kate; but I am also a mass of nerves--sometimes I think I am all nerves. My terror of the ghost of Castellis can testify to that, and rushing away from Sir John testifies to it again."

"It certainly does. You have as many contradictions in your character as if you were the Shrew in Shakespeare's play."

"Most people are like that, after all," answered Kate. "But now, Ralph, we must effect a compromise. You want me to see a doctor?"

"Certainly; and I also want you to see Martin Hewitt. His opinion is beyond dispute. If he says that your lungs are sound, all the Fenton-Douglases in the world cannot alarm me again on your account."

"Your mind must be relieved, Ralph, that is absolutely necessary. But still, I hold to my resolve; I will not see that special doctor. I hate all doctors but I don't hate medical women as much as men. Let me see a lady doctor, and then your heart will be at rest, and I shall not be quite so much disturbed."

"But I don't believe in lady doctors," said Henley, a puzzled expression coming into his face.

"Don't you? Then, my darling boy, you show your ignorance. There are some splendid women who have entered the profession--women with great brains. Who could say a word against such a woman as Dr. Garrett Anderson?"

"Of course; but she is quite an exception," admitted the young man.

"Not at all; there are several more, almost, if not quite, as clever."

"Well, well, you shall see Dr. Garrett Anderson."

| | 209

"I would gladly see her, but I do not believe she is in town at present. But there is the great Dr. Stevenson, who performs most wonderful cures. I remember hearing last year of three or four society people whom she brought back from the very brink of the grave. You must surely have heard of Dr. Agnes Stevenson?"

"I grieve to say, Kitty, I have not."

"Well, you have but to look in the 'Medical Directory'; her name is there blazoned in big letters, and all sorts of distinctions after it. May I see Dr. Stevenson, Ralph? You can go to the reading-room, look up the 'Medical Directory,' and find out for yourself that all I say is correct."

"And if I do find that such is the case, will it make you happy if I yield in this matter, Kate?"

"Intensely happy. My nervousness will go; I shall feel certain that a lady doctor will sympathise with me."

"There seems to be reason in it," said the young man, looking attentively at his wife.

"Do go down and find out about her, Ralph, and if she is all that I say, telegraph to her. Ask her to come and see me here. I will stay in bed; she can examine my lungs better before I dress. If we send her a telegram now at once, and prepay the answer, we shall know the exact hour when she will arrive. Do this for me, won't you, dear Ralph?"

Henley looked puzzled and undecided.

"I am old-fashioned enough," he said, "to prefer men doctors to women. But, of course, if this Dr. Stevenson is really the great doctor you say--"

"My dear Ralph, you have only to look in the 'Medical Directory,' or to speak to any chemist. | | 210 Bring me her exact address, Ralph, and we will send her a telegram."

Very unwillingly Henley left the room. He returned in about a quarter of an hour, having got the address of the great lady doctor. She had certainly a number of letters after her name, and was fully qualified.

"Now, then, to fill in the telegraph form," said Kate.

"What time shall I ask her to arrive?" queried Henley.

"She had better make her own appointment," replied Kate. "Do be quick, Ralph, for I want to get out of suspense."

Henley seated himself and filled in the form.

"It would be easier and simpler for me to go and see her," he said suddenly.

"No, no, stay with me; I cannot bear you out of my sight this morning. I feel so nervous and wretched."

Henley filled in the telegram and left the room. Presently he returned to his wife.

"I have sent it off," he said. "Now are you better?"

"Much, much better. Oh, it is all right, and I need not worry any more. After she has gone I shall feel absolutely at rest. It is much better to have a lady than a man to attend a woman. You see, Ralph, the patient can confide in her as she will not in a man doctor. Now, Ralph, you have been good and sweet about it, and I must ask you to do something else for me."

"What?"

"Get Mary and Ethel away--see them off to the train."

| | 211

"My darling Kate, I must say I think you are a little inhospitable to your cousins. They are both such dear, jolly girls, and so fond of you--particularly Ethel."

"You may well say particularly Ethel, for I believe Mary almost hates me. But, Ralph, they must both go; I am dead tired of them. I want you all to myself. I invited them to visit us much too soon. Go and manage it, Ralph darling. A good train leaves Paddington at eleven o'clock. Get them away; they must not see Dr. Stevenson."

Ralph, in some wonder, went downstairs. It was now between eight and nine o'clock. He found Mary and Ethel waiting for him in the coffee-room. They were in neat travelling dresses, and Mary's face had a determined, stubborn look about it. The moment she saw her cousin she went up to him.

"We have decided to go home by the eleven o'clock train," she said.

"Ah!" said Ralph, an expression of relief crossing his face.

"All our things are packed," continued Mary, "and we do not wish to stay here any longer. I will be frank with you, Ralph. Kate's conduct has hurt us very much. She has shown a distinct desire to get rid of us, which, seeing that we are cousins and old friends, seems scarcely natural."

"Kate is not well," replied Ralph; "you must not judge her too hardly, Mary. To tell the truth, I am most anxious about her, and have sent for Dr. Stevenson. I expect her this morning. It may be best, under the circumstances, that you two girls should be out of the way."

"It would be much more natural if one of us | | 212 stayed and helped to nurse Kate," said Mary, in her blunt voice; "but we certainly are not going to offer, for we are not wanted."

"But is Kate so bad as to require Dr. Stevenson?" cried Ethel.

"Yes; I want to get a first-class opinion about her. By the way, do you know Dr. Stevenson's name?"

"The great lady doctor, Agnes Stevenson? Why, certainly--of course we know her," was Ethel's reply.

"I am glad to hear you say so. The poor child has taken a dislike to seeing men doctors."

"I can scarcely blame her for that," replied Mary. "Now come, Ralph, let us sit down; we are starving for breakfast."

The girls ate their breakfast, and before it was finished a page entered the room and put a telegram into Henley's hands. He tore the little brown envelope open and read the contents--

"From Dr. Stevenson, Harley Street. Will call to see your wife at two o'clock to-day."

"Then there is no hurry about our train," cried Ethel.

"Oh yes, Ethel; we'll go by the train we arranged to take," said Mary.

Soon afterwards the girls went upstairs and entered Kate's room. She bade them good-bye almost affectionately. As Mary was stooping down to kiss her she looked full into her eyes, and the words almost rose to her lips, "You are the greatest sham I ever met in my life," but she did not say them.

A moment or two later, in Ralph's company, they left the house. They had scarcely done so before | | 213 Kate sprang out of bed and ran to one of the windows. The windows of her bedroom looked on to the front. She threw this one open now and craned her neck out. She saw the two girls and Henley get into a cab and drive away. She then immediately shut the window and began to dress as fast as ever she could. It was wonderful with what expedition she got into her clothes. In less than a quarter of an hour she was fully dressed and had gone downstairs. She wore a long travelling cloak over her dress, and a thick veil concealed her face. She went out, and in a few moments had reached the nearest telegraph office. Here she filled in two forms. One ran as follows:--

"To Dr. Agnes Stevenson, 204 Harley Street. Sorry to have to ask you to postpone your visit. Wife and I called out of town in a hurry. Expect to hear from me later.--RALPH HENLEY."

The second telegram was to Mrs. Johnson, 40 Mortimer Street. "Be at Métropole as arranged sharp at 2 o'clock.--K. H."

The two little messages were sent speeding on their way, and Kate returned to the hotel. She got back to her room, took off her things, and returned to bed. When Ralph came back about twelve o'clock he found her lying down with flushed cheeks. She now complained of slight headache. It rather suited her role to appear ill. She asked Ralph if he did not think her feverish. His anxiety about her was all too manifest; he could scarcely take his eyes from her face, and was looking out for every imaginable bad symptom.

Kate, although she was terribly hungry, refused lunch.

| | 214

"I cannot eat," she said; "it is all this suspense and excitement. How can I tell what awful news that dreadful Dr. Stevenson may have to say to me? I shall not know rest until I am told the worst."

"Or the best," answered her husband. "Don't despair, Kitty. No doctor, to look at you, could consider you very ill."

As Henley spoke he gave his wife a long, attentive glance. Those rounded cheeks, flushed as they now were, showed no apparent trace of consumption, and as he gazed at them attentively, he owned to himself with intense relief that the bright eyes looked more anxious than ill.

At the appointed hour Dr. Stevenson, in a neat claret-coloured brougham, arrived. Her card was taken up to Kate's bedroom--"Dr. Agnes Stevenson, 204 Harley Street."

"I will go down and see the lady," said Henley.

He ran downstairs. A quiet-looking woman, neatly dressed, was waiting for him in one of the reception rooms. Bright dark eyes looked full into his, and a small hand, but hard as iron, lay for an instant in his clasp. He felt a sudden degree of confidence, and asked the lady doctor to seat herself.

"I am glad to have a talk with you before I examine your wife," said the supposed Dr Stevenson. "Please tell me as briefly as you can what is wrong with her. Give me any particulars you like with regard to her age and general health."

Ralph told his story. Until quite lately he had always believed that his wife enjoyed robust health. He had been dreadfully puzzled and shocked at Sir John Fenton-Douglas's report. As Ralph said these latter words he looked full into the small dark face of | | 215 the lady doctor, as much as to say that he expected her to share his astonishment. But Dr. Stevenson's face was to all appearance an absolute blank.

"Take me to the patient," she said, rising.

Henley accompanied her upstairs.

"I should like to see the doctor alone, Ralph," said Kate.

Henley withdrew at once into his own bedroom at the opposite side of the corridor. What he endured during the next quarter of an hour he was not likely soon to forget. His passion for his wife was growing stronger week by week. The mere thought of losing her was agony to him.

"She shall live! I defy death to take her from me!" was his inward cry. Just then he heard a step on the landing, and left his room to come face to face with Dr. Stevenson. There was a sparkle in the eyes of the doctor, and her lips were smiling.

"Come," she said, looking at the young man; "it is not so bad as you fear. But I must speak to you alone."

Henley conducted her to a private room down-stairs. There Dr. Stevenson gave a careful report of Kate's symptoms.

"The lungs undoubtedly bear traces of serious mischief in the past," she began, "but at present the old trouble has healed over, and the disease has been arrested. The proper thing now to do is to give it no chance of revival."

"My God! then it is true," said Henley. "Kate consumptive! I did not know it when I married her."

"I am sorry for you," said Dr. Stevenson. "But, with care, you may keep Mrs. Henley alive for many | | 216 years. I should recommend her to go to a warm climate without delay."

"Why not to Davos in Switzerland?"

"No, your wife's is not a case for Davos; I should recommend Australia."

"That is her own wish."

"It is the climate of all others to suit her. Believe me, that at present she is not in the slightest danger. With care she may live to be an old woman."

After this Henley and Dr. Stevenson had a long conversation. Finally, he asked her if she would prescribe a tonic for his wife?

"Quite unnecessary," was her answer. "Mrs Henley does not require medicines; she needs rest of mind, which, I think, she will have when she leaves England."

"But why should her mind be anxious?"

"Her health, my dear sir. A woman who was so close to death in the spring of this year cannot immediately forget what she suffered. I have assured her that if she goes to Australia before the cold weather sets in she is safe."

"What is your fee, Dr. Stevenson? and will you see my wife again?"

"My fee is ten guineas. She need not see me again."

Henley paid the fee, and the supposed great doctor got into her claret-coloured brougham and drove away. Henley did not know whether to be relieved or not. The undefined sense of uneasiness which had worried him with regard to Kate's health, was, it is true, not altogether removed. But, after all, the clever lady doctor had assured him that if he took | | 217 his wife to Australia she would be safe. He bounded upstairs, eager to get to Kate in order to make the best of Dr. Stevenson's verdict. He had scarcely reached the first landing, however, before he saw her flying down to meet him, her eyes sparkling, her cheeks radiant, her lips wreathed in smiles.

"The doctor has come and gone--the ordeal is over," she cried. "Come out, Ralph. I am sick of the house. I want some fun."

"My darling Kate, how well you look!"

"Of course, I am well. She has relieved my mind, and I have got over the horrid nuisance of seeing her. Come out, Ralph; we must buy dresses, jackets, bonnets, hats, and for all the rest of the day we must have fun, fun--pleasure, pleasure! Ralph, my darling, there is no one looking--just give me one little kiss and be quick. Oh, I am so happy--the ordeal is over."

<< chapter 1 chapter 42 >>