a most unusual one. She was by nomeans a simple-minded woman, but, on the contrary, clever andintelligent, with a thorough knowledge of the world. It thereforeseemed astounding that she should make this remarkable confession. ButI controlled my surprise, and responded--
"You are, unfortunately, but one wife among thousands in exactly thesame position. If we only knew the composition of the ancientlove-philtre it would be in daily requisition. But, unfortunately,medical science is unable to influence the passion of the heart."
"Of course," she sighed. Then, with her eyes cast down upon the smalltable beside which she was sitting, she added, "I suppose, if the truthwere known, you consider me very foolish in making this confession toyou, a comparative stranger?"
"I do not consider it foolishness at all," I hastened to assure her. "Aneglected wife must always excite sympathy."
"And have I yours?"
"Most assuredly," I answered. "It is evident, from my diagnosis, thatyou are suffering from sudden and abrupt alterations in the feelings.You are more especially subject to a feeling of malaise, accompanied bymental depression, as at this moment. Therefore, I must endeavour toremove the cause. As regards the affection you bear your husband, Iwould presume to remind you of the very true adage which declares that`Love begets love.'"
"Ah," she interrupted, "that is untrue in my case."
"Am I, then, to understand that your husband is attracted by some otherperson?"
"I really don't know; I do not know what to think. He is indifferent--that is all."
"What difference is there in your ages?"
"I am thirty. He is fifty-eight."
"Ah!" I exclaimed. "And am I to presume that your marriage was aloveless one?"
"Not at all," she answered quickly. "I was very fond of him, and hemade some pretence of affection."
"And how many years have you been married?"
"Three," she responded.
According to "Debrett" she had married five years ago, but for suchsmall untruths a woman may always be forgiven.
I looked at her, unable to entirely satisfy myself regarding her. Sheseemed suffering from an agitation which she was striving with all hermight to control. That her nervous organisation was impaired was nodoubt correct, but it struck me that the cause of it all was some suddenand terrible shock to the system.
"I assure you that you have my sympathy in your mental distress," I saidat length. "There have always been fatalists who have argued that wemust accept without question what is sent us, that we must bow insubmission to a `will' without really seeking to find out what the`will' is."
"Yes," she said thoughtfully. "It is quite impossible not to admit thatthe increased knowledge of the laws which regulate the visible universehas increased our living faith and added to the glory of the Almighty,while it has made it more difficult for men to make gods after their ownimage and use them for their own purposes."
"Exactly," I said. "Modern medicine is teaching us every day that muchbodily suffering is due to man's wilful neglect of the beneficent lawsof Nature. That diseases are due to ignorance and disregard of law, andare not `sent' as scourges by a petulant and capricious deity, isclearly a doctrine which in no way dims the glory of God."
"I quite agree," she responded. Then, in a low tone, more confidentialthan before, she added, "You, Doctor, have expressed sympathy for me inmy distress, and I look to you for assistance. Curious though it mayseem, I have scarcely a single friend in whom I can confide."
"I shall respect your confidence, as is my duty," I answered, "and willdo my best to stifle your craving for stimuli."
"But the love of my husband?"
"Endeavour to live uprightly and honestly, and show him your true worthabove all other women," I said. "It is the only way."
"I have done so," she answered sadly, "but have failed."
"Do not give up. A man is never wholly proof against a good woman,especially if that woman be his wife."
A silence fell between us.
"And may I count upon your aid in all this, Doctor?" she asked, withsome hesitation.
"Certainly," I responded. "If I can give you any advice, I shall alwaysbe pleased to do so."
"But my husband must know nothing. Recollect I have consulted youunknown to him."
"As you wish, of course."
"And, in future, if I wish to see you, may I call at your surgery?"
"If you desire," I replied. "But I am only _locum tenens_ for myfriend, Doctor Raymond, who is in the country. Perhaps I may go intopractice in the country afterwards."
"And leave me!" she exclaimed anxiously. "I hope not."
"I shall still consider you my patient," I said.
"No," she said. "I trust that you will regard me as more than a merepatient--as your friend."
"I am honoured by your friendship," I replied. "And if I can, at anytime, do anything to assist you in this mental trouble of yours, I willdo it with pleasure."
I had, during our conversation, been attracted by her frankness ofmanner and the evident sorrow which weighed so heavily upon her. Shehad confessed to me, and we had now become friends. My position was acurious one: the adviser of a woman who was wearing out her heart forher husband's love. It was not altogether devoid of danger either, forher ladyship was an exceedingly attractive woman.
I had written the prescription and handed it to her, but, apparently inno mood to allow me to go, she did not rise.
While I had been busily writing at the little escritoire her manner hadapparently changed, for she was no longer the serious, nervous woman often minutes before, but quite gay and vivacious, with a look of triumphin her fine, dark eyes.
"I am very glad, Doctor Colkirk, that you have promised to assist me,"she said, laughing merrily and stretching out her tiny foot from beneaththe hem of her skirt with a distinct air of coquetry. "I feel sure thatwe shall be excellent friends."
"I hope so," I replied. "But you must be careful of your generalhealth, and persevere with the treatment."
"I don't care much for chemists' concoctions," she laughed. "It's verygood of you to have given me this prescription, but I don't propose tomake use of it."
"Why not?" I inquired in quick surprise.
"Because I only described to you imaginary symptoms," she laughedmischievously. "I enjoy a glass of port immensely after dinner, butfurther than that never touch stimulants, nor have any inclination forthem."
"So you have deceived me," I said severely, for it seemed as though shewished to poke fun at me.
"Yes. But I hope you will forgive me," she answered, laughing.
"I cannot see what motive you can have in calling me in to describe amalady from which you are not suffering. A doctor's time is valuable."
"I had a motive."
"And pray what was it?"
"Well, I wished to make your acquaintance," she answered boldly, withouthesitation.
"You adopted a rather unusual course," I remarked, somewhat annoyed.
"I think, under the circumstances, this little ruse of mine may possiblybe forgiven," she answered. "I am not the first woman who has called ina doctor professionally merely in order to make his acquaintance."
"And for what reason did you wish to know me?"
"I trust you are not annoyed with me?" she exclaimed. "You must admitthat I acted the part of the nervous woman so well that even you, amedical man, were, deceived."
"I admit that you have taken an unfair advantage of me," I answeredcalmly, wondering why she should thus have sought my acquaintance.
"But you will forgive me, Doctor, won't you?" she urged.
"If you will tell me the reason you were so desirous of meeting me."
"I wanted to know you."
"Why?"
"I had seen you in the distance many times, and desired to becomepersonally acquainted with you."
"For what reason?"
She hesitated, and I thought I detected a faint blush upon her cheek.
/> "I--well, I wished to number you among my friends."
"Then I presume that the story regarding your husband is also afiction?" I said, surprised that I had previously formed such anentirely wrong impression of her.
"No, not exactly," she responded. "I hope to have the pleasure ofintroducing you to him some day ere long."
"I shall of course be delighted," I answered in a tone which I fear didnot convey any