CHAPTER XVI. MISS JETHRO.
A fortnight after the disappearance of Mrs. Ellmother, and the dismissalof Mrs. Mosey, Doctor Allday entered his consulting-room, punctual tothe hour at which he was accustomed to receive patients.
An occasional wrinkling of his eyebrows, accompanied by an intermittentrestlessness in his movements, appeared to indicate some disturbanceof this worthy man's professional composure. His mind was indeed not atease. Even the inexcitable old doctor had felt the attraction which hadalready conquered three such dissimilar people as Alban Morris, CeciliaWyvil, and Francine de Sor. He was thinking of Emily.
A ring at the door-bell announced the arrival of the first patient.
The servant introduced a tall lady, dressed simply and elegantly in darkapparel. Noticeable features, of a Jewish cast--worn and haggard, butstill preserving their grandeur of form--were visible through herveil. She moved with grace and dignity; and she stated her object inconsulting Doctor Allday with the ease of a well-bred woman.
"I come to ask your opinion, sir, on the state of my heart," she said;"and I am recommended by a patient, who has consulted you with advantageto herself." She placed a card on the doctor's writing-desk, and added:"I have become acquainted with the lady, by being one of the lodgers inher house."
The doctor recognized the name--and the usual proceedings ensued. Aftercareful examination, he arrived at a favorable conclusion. "I may tellyou at once," he said--"there is no reason to be alarmed about the stateof your heart."
"I have never felt any alarm about myself," she answered quietly. "Asudden death is an easy death. If one's affairs are settled, it seems,on that account, to be the death to prefer. My object was to settle_my_ affairs--such as they are--if you had considered my life to be indanger. Is there nothing the matter with me?"
"I don't say that," the doctor replied. "The action of your heart isvery feeble. Take the medicine that I shall prescribe; pay a littlemore attention to eating and drinking than ladies usually do; don't runupstairs, and don't fatigue yourself by violent exercise--and I see noreason why you shouldn't live to be an old woman."
"God forbid!" the lady said to herself. She turned away, and looked outof the window with a bitter smile.
Doctor Allday wrote his prescription. "Are you likely to make a longstay in London?" he asked.
"I am here for a little while only. Do you wish to see me again?"
"I should like to see you once more, before you go away--if you can makeit convenient. What name shall I put on the prescription?"
"Miss Jethro."
"A remarkable name," the doctor said, in his matter-of-fact way.
Miss Jethro's bitter smile showed itself again.
Without otherwise noticing what Doctor Allday had said, she laid theconsultation fee on the table. At the same moment, the footman appearedwith a letter. "From Miss Emily Brown," he said. "No answer required."
He held the door open as he delivered the message, seeing that MissJethro was about to leave the room. She dismissed him by a gesture; and,returning to the table, pointed to the letter.
"Was your correspondent lately a pupil at Miss Ladd's school?" sheinquired.
"My correspondent has just left Miss Ladd," the doctor answered. "Areyou a friend of hers?"
"I am acquainted with her."
"You would be doing the poor child a kindness, if you would go and seeher. She has no friends in London."
"Pardon me--she has an aunt."
"Her aunt died a week since."
"Are there no other relations?"
"None. A melancholy state of things, isn't it? She would have beenabsolutely alone in the house, if I had not sent one of my womenservants to stay with her for the present. Did you know her father?"
Miss Jethro passed over the question, as if she had not heard it. "Hasthe young lady dismissed her aunt's servants?" she asked.
"Her aunt kept but one servant, ma'am. The woman has spared Miss Emilythe trouble of dismissing her." He briefly alluded to Mrs. Ellmother'sdesertion of her mistress. "I can't explain it," he said when he haddone. "Can _you_?"
"What makes you think, sir, that I can help you? I have never even heardof the servant--and the mistress was a stranger to me."
At Doctor Allday's age a man is not easily discouraged by reproof, evenwhen it is administered by a handsome woman. "I thought you might haveknown Miss Emily's father," he persisted.
Miss Jethro rose, and wished him good-morning. "I must not occupy anymore of your valuable time," she said.
"Suppose you wait a minute?" the doctor suggested.
Impenetrable as ever, he rang the bell. "Any patients in thewaiting-room?" he inquired. "You see I have time to spare," he resumed,when the man had replied in the negative. "I take an interest in thispoor girl; and I thought--"
"If you think that I take an interest in her, too," Miss Jethrointerposed, "you are perfectly right--I knew her father," she addedabruptly; the allusion to Emily having apparently reminded her of thequestion which she had hitherto declined to notice.
"In that case," Doctor Allday proceeded, "I want a word of advice. Won'tyou sit down?"
She took a chair in silence. An irregular movement in the lower part ofher veil seemed to indicate that she was breathing with difficulty. Thedoctor observed her with close attention. "Let me see my prescriptionagain," he said. Having added an ingredient, he handed it back with aword of explanation. "Your nerves are more out of order than I supposed.The hardest disease to cure that I know of is--worry."
The hint could hardly have been plainer; but it was lost on MissJethro. Whatever her troubles might be, her medical adviser was not madeacquainted with them. Quietly folding up the prescription, she remindedhim that he had proposed to ask her advice.
"In what way can I be of service to you?" she inquired.
"I am afraid I must try your patience," the doctor acknowledged, "if Iam to answer that question plainly."
With these prefatory words, he described the events that had followedMrs. Mosey's appearance at the cottage. "I am only doing justice to thisfoolish woman," he continued, "when I tell you that she came here, aftershe had left Miss Emily, and did her best to set matters right. I wentto the poor girl directly--and I felt it my duty, after looking at heraunt, not to leave her alone for that night. When I got home the nextmorning, whom do you think I found waiting for me? Mrs. Ellmother!"
He stopped--in the expectation that Miss Jethro would express somesurprise. Not a word passed her lips.
"Mrs. Ellmother's object was to ask how her mistress was going on," thedoctor proceeded. "Every day while Miss Letitia still lived, she camehere to make the same inquiry--without a word of explanation. On the dayof the funeral, there she was at the church, dressed in deep mourning;and, as I can personally testify, crying bitterly. When the ceremony wasover--can you believe it?--she slipped away before Miss Emily or I couldspeak to her. We have seen nothing more of her, and heard nothing more,from that time to this."
He stopped again, the silent lady still listening without making anyremark.
"Have you no opinion to express?" the doctor asked bluntly.
"I am waiting," Miss Jethro answered.
"Waiting--for what?"
"I haven't heard yet, why you want my advice."
Doctor Allday's observation of humanity had hitherto reckoned want ofcaution among the deficient moral qualities in the natures of women. Heset down Miss Jethro as a remarkable exception to a general rule.
"I want you to advise me as to the right course to take with MissEmily," he said. "She has assured me she attaches no serious importanceto her aunt's wanderings, when the poor old lady's fever was at itsworst. I don't doubt that she speaks the truth--but I have my ownreasons for being afraid that she is deceiving herself. Will you bearthis in mind?"
"Yes--if it's necessary."
"In plain words, Miss Jethro, you think I am still wandering from thepoint. I have got to the point. Yesterday, Miss Emily told me thatshe hoped to be soon
composed enough to examine the papers left by heraunt."
Miss Jethro suddenly turned in her chair, and looked at Doctor Allday.
"Are you beginning to feel interested?" the doctor asked mischievously.
She neither acknowledged nor denied it. "Go on"--was all she said.
"I don't know how _you_ feel," he proceeded; "_I_ am afraid of thediscoveries which she may make; and I am strongly tempted to adviseher to leave the proposed examination to her aunt's lawyer. Is thereanything in your knowledge of Miss Emily's late father, which tells youthat I am right?"
"Before I reply," said Miss Jethro, "it may not be amiss to let theyoung lady speak for herself."
"How is she to do that?" the doctor asked.
Miss Jethro pointed to the writing table. "Look there," she said. "Youhave not yet opened Miss Emily's letter."