Dr. Edith Romney; a novel

Chapter I. Over The Wine

" Novelty is only in request." Measure for Measure. The May evening was so mild that the windows of Dr. Fullap-her's di_inp--room had been left open. Near one of them sat the doctor and his guest, between them a small table with decanters and glasses and cigars. It was twi light. "With a congenial companion the doctor cared not how long he sat in the melancholy hour between the lights — when alone he much preferred the brilliancy of gas or lamp. The air was still and soft, so still that the white curtains were hardly stirred. The window opened on to the garden, where the paths, the flowers, the trees at the end, and each object, were becoming indistinct and uniform in neutral tints. Over the trees, two lilacs and one graceful laburnum, looked the crescent moon — pale, fair, and distant. Within the room there still lingered enough lie;ht near the window to enable the two men to pour out their wine, to light their cigars, and to see each other's face.

They lounged opposite each other in great easy chairs — content, comfortable, with that soothing sense of repose and well-being induced by an excellent dinner and the fumes of fragrant smoke. The host, a man of sixty, tall, stout, grey-haired, and large-limbed, amply filled his seat. Pie was large in face and feature also, with plenty of hair, and a long grey beard flowing over his breast in two ragged locks — a beard which did the doctor good service as a mode of expression, for he had tricks of handlino* those lons; locks corresponding in vigour and variety to every change of his impulsive temper. His complexion was florid, his eye-brows bushy, his blue eyes rather small, but capable of much expression ; his brow high and noble, while the lower part of his face was heavy and coarse. A face of con tradictions — attractive, in spite of its want of beauty, and yet, at times, slightly repellent.

In the course of a long and hard-working life, how ever, the attractiveness — a charm and force in the man himself — had exercised by far the greater influence over people, and won for him a fair measure of success and popularity. His guest was younger by some twenty-five years. He was tall and broad-shouldered, well knit in figure, with no superfluous flesh upon his large bones. He was dark and sunburnt, wearing neither beard nor whisker, only a thick, drooping moustache. He was a handsome man, with dark level brows, a straight nose, dark deep-set eyes, a fine chin, and a proud and easy carriage of the head. His careless, lounging attitude was graceful, and the rough grey suit sat well upon him, — Dr. Fullagher was a bachelor, and the traveller had been spared the trouble of evening dress.

This was their first meeting after six years, and they had had much to say ; but now a short pause ensued. Dr. Fullagher removed his cigar from his lips, deliberately and with epicurean enjoyment dis posed of a glass of port, replaced his cigar, uncrossed and recrossed his legs, and settling his head comfortably in a new position, turned his eyes upon the dark handsome face which leaned back with half-shut eyelids opposite. " Well, now you've had your fling, Fane," he said, *' been everywhere and seen the world all round, I suppose j-ou'll be thinking of settling down." "No, I'm not thinking of it," said Fane, lazily. " Don't you think it's time you did ? " " Oh, I'm in no hurry." "It's about time you were. A man who wants to make a practice and get on ought to turn to when he can still call himself young."

" I suppose so. But the prospect of settling down is not a cheerful one." " You can't spend your days wandering the devil knows where. And this loss you were mentioning — of course it will affect your income ? " " It carries with it a full third," said Fane. " The loss of a third of one's income strikes me as a pretty strong argument to induce a man to supplement it by work," said the doctor, dryly. " I'm afraid I shall find it so," in a resigned tone. "It will hasten the evil day when I must stick myself down to one place and grub for a living. But I have seen no place yet that I should care to spend my days in." " What do you say to Wanningster ? " "Here ? No room," said Fane, laconically. " It's not a bad town, and it's easy to w*ork. There's plenty of money in the place." " I'm glad to hear it for your sake.

But I can't very well come and scramble for it with you. You have too great a hold in the town for a rival to have any chance against you." Dr. Fullagher uttered an inarticulate grunt, and poured himself out another glass of wine. " Have some more claret, Fane. I still stick to my old friend." " More of an enemy than a friend, I fear,' said Fane. Fullagher pulled a rueful grimace and softly caressed his leg. " It plays the deuce with me now and then. But what can I expect ? I'm getting old and must pay for my youth. Abstaining from my favourite wine would be a heavy and utterly disproportionate price to pay for a possible year or two's longer infirmities." " Perhaps you're right," said Fane, as he helped himself and shot a quick professional glance at the other. " There is more than a year or two's life in you yet, doctor.

You have not changed in these half-dozen years." " I am certainly stouter, and my fits of gout are rather more frequent. But I am glad to hear you say so." " By-the-by," said Austin, abruptly, " have you retired ? " " What makes you ask ? " " Because you have not once been interrupted this evenina*. That is a slight difference to old times ! How that wretched bell used to go ! One couldn't have you for half-an-hour together.' " I perceive a difference myself," said Ful lagher, quaintly. "Grant said something about your retiring — " " Did the ass ? " The doctor stroked his beard meditatively and took a few whiffs at his cigar. " H'm. On the whole I'm as well pleased that story should be the one to get about. It is more dignified to retire than to — be retired from. Yes, George Grant, your delicate way of putting matters pleases me.

I've ' retired.' I must confess the ino-enious O expression never once occurred to me." The doctor smiled at the mystified surprise on his companion's face. " We are all mortal, Fane." " What has that to do with it ? " " It is only another way of saying we are all subject to change — and to changes. You don't think me altered ; I don't feel any more infirm than I did five, or even ten, years ago ; I have good work in me yet, but my patients evidently think otherwise, and so I have 'retired.' Except for a small remnant — chiefly members of my own sex — that still remains faithful to me I do no work." " I had no idea of this. I'm very sorry. What an ungrateful set the people of this town must be ! Why, you must have worked amongst them for over twenty years." " Twenty-five. The length of time is one reason, I fancy.

Wanningster has changed greatly during those years. When I first came it was a dull, sleepy, dead-alive place, with no more idea of progress or enterprise than I have of waltzing. The last twelve years have worked wonders," he went on. " Really, I expect you will hardly know the place. The manufactures had a time of great prosperity. Men who used to make their modest hundreds and were content to live in the town, now make their thousands, and have large houses in the country, and have their clubs and their late dinners ; for with wealth their ideas have enlarged in proportion. The town is almost a third as large again ; it is extending its borders on every side. We have some really respectable public buildings. And the people are as much changed as the place. They are quite in the swim ; quite in the fore most ranks of enlightenment and progress.

I, being old-fashioned and ignobly unaffected by the march of improvement, am, as a natural consequence, left behind. My diploma, unfortunately, does not bear the date of one of the last three years ; I am weighed in the balance, and found wanting. Therefore, my kingdom is divided, and devilishly unfairly too." " By Jove ! you take it calmly too ! " "Do I? I can rant about it ; before you go you may perhaps hear a specimen of my powers in that line. Don't imagine the loss of work impoverishes me. I have made enough to enable me to live as comfortably as I care to live until I go over to the majority. I can keep on the same house and a horse, buy as much port as I want, and put up with David's exquisite but expensive cookery. You have detected no signs of poverty about the place, have you ? — no broken windows, or holes in the carpets ?

" " I wasn't thinking of the money. Twenty five years of a capital practice like yours ought to have feathered your nest pretty warmly. No ; the hard part must be to be quietly shelved by other people." " That's so. You show a fine perception, my friend." " None of the other doctors had a chance against you. Has a new man come to the town ? " " Dr. Romney." " Romney — Romney," repeated Fane. "Wasn't there a Dr. Romney in L — ? " naming a neigh bouring town. " He's dead. This doctor is a member of his family." " And he's the bright and shining light that has eclipsed you with your age and experi- 0 '*> ence l. " Exactly," replied the doctor " My experience and age and worth have gone like wax before the modern training and latest ideas of this brilliant young doctor. Dr. Romney is in the fashion, and much run after, I assure you.

That is why I suggested Wanningster ; although at first glance I admit the reason does not seem apparent. There is scope here. The town is growing rapidly ; the people are much richer. You belong to modern times. You are a man of the world, and would suit them. They take readily to any one new — " "And just as readfly forsake them ! " exclaimed Fane. " If they are as changeable as you say, they would throw me over as quickly as this other man as soon as a still newer man appeared." " I don't think so," said Dr. Fullagher with a quiet smile of confidence. " If I settle down it must be with some hope at least of being able to keep as much practice as I make," said the other with a little irritation. " You have every chance here," said Fullagher, in the same tone of calm assurance. " I ought to know, after living here for a quarter of a century.

I have taken the fools' measure to a hair's-breadth. I am well posted up in Wanning ster politics, no man in the town as well, I dare say, unless it's that drivelling idiot, Milward, who knows about every one ; and I foresee a splendid practice for you, larger and richer than mine in its best days." " And in another breath you tell me the people are capricious ! " " Quite so," was the cool reply. " Far be it from me to stint them of their due. My dear fellow, let me explain. Regarding them with a professional eye, I perceive that they are in a period of transition. You come and bring them safely through it. You will suit them exactly. You have every advantage of personal appearance and charm of manner, and of having been every where, and seen everything. You are a man of the world, and know how to manage men and women — don't forget the women, by the Lord ! — they are the chief source of one's income, as I have found out to my cost.

You will win them, their money, their respect and admiration, and thev will remain submissively faithful to you. And why 1 " Fullagher leaned forward and laid an impressive grasp upon his beard. " Because affairs are too unnatural and exceptional to last. Dr. Romney, Fane — Dr. Romney is not the son, but the daughter, of Hugh Romney." " The devil ! " exclaimed Fane, pausing in the act of striking a light to gaze incredulously into the other's face. " No, worse," said Fullagher, nodding gently — " a woman." " A lady-doctor in Wanningster 1 — and suc cessful ? " said Fane in slow amazement. " Why, the people must be crazy ! " he added contemptuously. " Ah, I thought you were conservative in such matters. I calculated on your not believing in them." Austin laughed scornfully. " Believe in them ] I think they are mon strosities! — everything that is unwomanly and odious !

I cannot bear to think of a woman stepping out of her proper sphere and thrusting herself into strife with men. It is degrading to her." " Quite so. I agree with you entirely." " And you mean to say that this — this woman has positively taken your practice from you — you, the oldest doctor in the town ? " " The women and children, certainly — the best of one's practice," said Dr. Fullagher ruefully. " Good heavens ! what fools people are ! " " One hardly needed this extreme proof, though," said the doctor, with a jerk of laughter. "The explanation is simple, extremely simple. As I have already told you, Wanningster has made immense strides the last few years. It hungrily swallows every new fashion — women's rights, æstheticism, cookery and ambulance classes, and I don't know what. When in this state of yawning voracity it was not likely to strain at so small a trifle as a lady-doctor.

No. She came at the right moment, and Wanningster greedily accepted her. Mrs. Stanforth, the rector's wife, employed her from the first, and that went a long way. Our great lady, Mrs. Lorimer, took her up, and her patronage finished the business. The rest of my best patients fol lowed like a flock of geese. The Harveys, a whole clan in themselves, employ her, and their connection is a valuable dissenting one. That addle headed Milward, who is always nibbling at some fad in science or art, took her under his ample wing, and introduced her to the Chutterworths — " " They are nobodies, anyway. I've heard you talk about them." " You mistake," exclaimed the doctor. " They OVER THE WINE. are great people now. He has built himself a huge, unwieldy house two miles out of town, wdiich he proudly terms a mansion, and which is built, so he says, in the form of a h'L — for dining late has not made any difference in the placing of his aspirates.

He has given me many a laugh over his house and grounds, for the idiot expects every one to be as greatly interested in every detail of the place as he is himself. For instance, it was soothing to know he employed " three gardeners and an 'elper," and that, to gratify Stanforth's eye when dining there, he intended to put up a large Scriptural picture over the side-board — subject, ' The Canterbury Pilgrims.' ' Fane threw back his head and laughed aloud. " What heartless fiend let him in for that ? Did you, Fullagher ? " "No. I only wish I could take credit for it. I should be a prouder man this day. No, it w*as the brilliant suggestion of Scott, the architect, who seems to be as thorough in general ignorance as the noble Chutterworth himself. I applauded the idea, certainly, but I did not originate it."

"It is odd such a man should be so 'advanced,' as you term it, as to employ a lady-doctor," said Fane, with a sneer. "Two powerful reasons," said Dr. Fullagher, smiling shrewdly. " First and foremost, he yearns to be in ' society ' — Wanningster's best, you know. He is doing everything he can to push himself and his family into it. As Miss Romney was taken up by the best people, he would not be behindhand, so he ordered his wife to send for her ; and, much against her will, the poor woman did so. She is one of those ignorant, narrow-minded people who dread innovation as they dread spiders. Had railways been invented in her life-time she would never have entered a train. " " Yes. Lady-doctors can never be really successful, for they will not be able to overcome the prejudices of the poor. The poor make a firmer foundation for a practice than the rich."

" That is generally true. I began with the poor, but I let 'em drop as soon as I could. I loathe poor people," said the doctor, raising his glass to his lips. "'Low, vile, abominable wretches,' as a fellow-student of mine used to call them. It was amusing to hear Mrs. Chutter worth's almost tearful protest next time I happened to meet her. ' Don't go for to think as it's me as is turnin' of you off, doctor, for it ain't anything of the sort. You've always sooted me ' (here I made my best bow), ' and if even you OVER THE WINE. are a bit elderly and old-fashioned, behind the times, as they say' (this candid betrayal of public opinion made me enjoy myself thoroughly), ' what does it matter ? It stands to reason you must know better what's the matter with folks than a lady, however clever she may be, and however many letters she may tack on to her name.

I don't feel 'appy about it, doctor, and if it wasn't that Joel is as firm set about things as he takes into his head as his own factory, I wouldn't give in to givin' of you h'up.' She suggested that I should occasionally ' look in as a friend,' and more than hinted I should supple ment Miss Romney's advice by my own moss grown wisdom. I shook my head and said ' Impossible,' somewhat sharply. Next time I saw her she was kind enough to set my mind at rest by telling me she had got over her fears, and quite believed that her new doctor under stood her business." Fane gave himself an impatient fling and uttered an ejaculation of disgust. " What is Chutterworth's other motive 1 " Dr. Fullagher' s eyes twinkled. " Meanness, my dear fellow, meanness. He spends ostenta tiously, but he likes to save when it is possible, and he is especially fond of screwing it out of people who do work for him.

I got a shrewd suspicion as to the workings of his noble mind on the subject a few days after the momentous change. He was here to ask a few questions about himself, — the poor devil has heart disease, —and he mentioned the fact that Miss Romney had been called in by his wife half apologetically. ' It's a queer thing for a woman to do,' said he, 'but the best families are beginning to employ her, and I don't see any reason, hang it, why I shouldn't profit by it as well as other people.' No, damn you, thought I, I don't suppose you do, and I hope Miss Romney will show a woman's usual conscience about money, and charge you double what I charge instead of half, as you evidently expect. My old enemy, Miss Jacques," went on the doctor, with the comfortable air of one sure of a sympathetic listener, " she was the frankest about it. ' I am going to throw* you over, doctor,' she calmly announced, the last time I called upon her — let me see, it must be eighteen months ago. ' Are you indeed, ma'am ? ' said I. ' It is what I might have expected.

Your consideration in giving me notice of your intention is a greater grace than I deserve. Miss Romney, I presume ? ' ' Dr. Romney, yes. I think, doctor, I have got about all the amusement I can out of you, and I want a change.' ' Pray change then,' said I. ' Far be it from me to interfere with your amusement — though it seems to me a lady doctor is not exactly the person one would go to in search of amusement.' ' I want to see how she does it,' said Miss Jacques. ' Watching her ape you god like creatures will amuse me.' I fled then," added the doctor ; " when she begins on men I always fly. But it strikes me," he said, seriously, " that she was honestly glad to get a person of her own sex to attend her. I believe she has kept back something from me. I was sorry to lose her, for we never could agree ; but her tongue is too caustic by half for a woman."

" I don't know what women are coming to," Fane said, in a tone of strong disgust. "They are recklessly throwing aside everything that most charms and attracts men." " So much the better — there will be fewer marriages," said the confirmed old bachelor. "They may use the powers of making them selves disagreeable given them by bountiful nature to their utmost limits ; ali I object to is their poaching on our preserves." " How long has Miss Romney been in the town ? " " Nearly two years." " What is she like ? " vol. i. 17 "Never seen her. They say she is good looking." Fane replied to this by an inarticulate grunt, in no way softened by hearing it. " Well," said Dr. Fullagher, after a pause, "will you come and avenge me? or is Wan ningster too circumscribed a field for you ? " " Not a bit of it," said Fane, pulling himself out of his chair, and lazily stretching himself as he towered up in superb height.

" I rather like the town, and I have always regarded you as a lucky fellow ; but a man can't decide in a moment where to pitch his tent. I should like to avenge you, and I believe I could do it. The fight would be amusing even if I didn't care to stay." " Ah ! " sighed Dr. Fullagher, " it's fine to be young and strong. I wish I could buy back my youth and strength ; I would gladly be poor again and never taste port, if I could go back thirty years. I shouldn't need any one to fight my battles then. I, who hate women and despise them — I, to be beaten in my old age by one as surely as ever that unfortunate devil, Samson, was beaten ! " His florid face flushed deeper, and his voice shook with anger. " It won't be for long. They will soon tire of their expensive caprice. Wait until she loses one B__ or two of their children, or their wives — they will come back quicker than they w*ent then," said Fane.

" Will they ? I wish they would. I would send them to the devil ! I should like them to have no one to go to — to be obliged to fall back on that imbecile Garthorpe, and his everlasting ' warm drinks,' for a while, until a new man came to deliver them. Stay away, Fane. They don't deserve such a good man. And by ! I'll throw up the aj)pointments, and kick the next man w*ho comes for advice into the middle of next week if his wife employs that woman. Ill submit to their confounded impudence no longer. I'll retire in good earnest." " Don't excite yourself, doctor," said Fane. " A new man would find it easy to drive her out of the town. I'll go and give a look at the place, and see what I think of it. I should like a stroll." He went out alone, for Dr. Fullagher preferred a nap in his arm-chair.

The doctor's house was in a quiet and old quarter of the town. Monk Lane, with its large square red-brick houses, had once been fashion able, but fashion had deserted it for the new streets of modern bay-windowed houses. Fane had paid his friend several flying visits, and knew the town tolerably well — that is to say, the old part of it. He took his way towards the race-course. The quiet, almost empty business streets left behind, and London Road entered upon, he found himself no longer treading familiar regions. Here, where London Road had begun, — a veritable country road, with fields on either side, — began long, compact rows of tall grey houses, and out of the road branched new streets and other terraces. Fane sauntered on, drinking in the mild air, and meditating in a desultory fashion upon his friend's proposal.

He had led a roving, adventurous life ; the thought of being tied to one place, and that place a moderate-sized midland town, was not alluring. Still, he must start in practice some where ; he acknowledged the necessity, exasper ating as it was. He was thirty-five — it was time he made use of his profession ; and he had lately lost money. And why not Wranningster 1 Wanningster would give him a living as well as any other place. He glanced at the long rows of houses, where the lights of numerous homes shone through the blinds ; there w*as scope, certainlv, but he felt no great covetinoof the ml ' O © money to be made out of these many dwellings. He walked some distance along London Road. The terraces stopped, and semi-detached villas with large gardens began. These again were succeeded by single houses, standing in still larger gardens.

He passed the race-course on his right, and turned back at the toll-bar. Going home wards, he left the main road, and chose one of the cross-streets, rightly supposing it would take him a shorter way to Monk Lane. Nearly at the end of the street a brass plate on the gate of one of the uniform " single " houses caught his eye, and glancing at it in passing, he read the name, "Edith Romney, M.D." Fane pulled up short with an almost audible laugh of derision. He looked with keen interest at the house. The two windows of the second story were lit up ; there were the clustered shadows of leaves upon the blinds, as though several plants stood behind them, and through the inch or two's open space of one window floated sw*eet girlish singing. "A younger sister, maybe," thought Fane. " Wonder if she is being trained as assistant. Oh, the deuce, how nauseous it is ! No wonder Fullagher raves." ■21

Chapter II. No

20, PRINCESS ROAD. " When sunshine glistens round, And friends as young as we are sit beside us." Landor. The drawing-room of No. 20, Princess Road, at the lighted windows of which Austin Fane had gazed that soft May evening, w*anted none of the trifles and nicknacks which are supposed to denote feminine taste and occupancy. The room was the largest in the house^ taking in the space over the entrance as well as that over the dining room, and was furnished prettily and simply iu the ordinary manner of drawing-rooms. The colours were quiet and subdued, the ornaments good and well chosen. It was the middle of June now. The two windows were filled with plants, and every avail able vase with roses, which sweetened the air deliciously. Near the bay-window sat a young girl. The white curtain behind made a clear and luminous background for the slight fio-ure leaning a little forward, and the pretty fair head NO. 20, PRINCESS ROAD. and delicately-tinted face bent over some elabor ate fancy-work.

Her dress was a dainty ruffled affair of pale blue muslin. Unbraceleted wrists showed their fair and tender curves below the frilled sleeve, and two white half-blown roses fastened the frill about her neck. At her elbow stood a gipsy-table, with its equipage of after noon tea. A young man, rather tall, slender, and hand some, lounged on an ottoman in the middle of the room, tea-cup in hand, allowing a pair of languid, admiring eyes to rest upon her. Winifred was not unconscious of their glance ; it partly accounted for her bent head and in dustry, for the door had just closed upon her aunt. She and Mr. Ardley were alone, and for the first moment she felt almost shy. Oscar crossed over to her and put down his cup. " Let me give you some more tea," said Wini fred, raising her fair flushed face.

" No, thank you," he said, standing beside her. " How* busy you are ! " " Yes ; but it won't look right," said she, in childish phrase. She leaned back and surveyed her flowers with almost pouting dissatisfaction. v What shade would you put here, Mr. Ardley ? " He bent down to look at her work, and then at the bundle of faded greens she held up for his inspection, and considered the question with judicial gravity. "This, I think," he said at length, laying a finger on one. Winifred drew out a piece at once. " What a comfort it is to have a decision taken off one's mind sometimes ! " " Whether the rash person who ventures his opinion is competent to give a decision or not ! " " Oh, sometimes I get into such a state of doubt that I would take a child's opinion just to end it." " I had no idea fancy-work gave so much trouble."