"It is needless to weary you by entering into details on the subject of
Julian's illness.
"The fever pursued the ordinary course, and was characterized by the
usual intervals of delirium and exhaustion succeeding each other.
Subsequent events, which it is, unfortunately, necessary to relate to
you, leave me no choice but to dwell (as briefly as possible) on the
painful subject of the delirium. In other cases the wanderings of
fever-stricken people present, I am told, a certain variety of range. In
Julian's case they were limited to one topic. He talked incessantly
of Mercy Merrick. His invariable petition to his medical attendants
entreated them to send for her to nurse him. Day and night that one idea
was in his mind, and that one name on his lips.
"The doctors naturally made inquiries as to this absent person. I was
obliged (in confidence) to state the circumstances to them plainly.
"The eminent physician whom I had called in to superintend the treatment
behaved admirably. Though he has risen from the lower order of the
people, he has, strange to say, the instincts of a gentleman. He
thoroughly understood our trying position, and felt all the importance
of preventing such a person as Mercy Merrick from seizing the
opportunity of intruding herself at the bedside. A soothing prescription
(I have his own authority for saying it) was all that was required to
meet the patient's case. The local doctor, on the other hand, a young
man (and evidently a red-hot radical), proved to be obstinate, and,
considering his position, insolent as well. 'I have nothing to do with
the lady's character, and with your opinion of it,' he said to me. 'I
have only, to the best of my judgment, to point out to you the likeliest
means of saving the patient's life. Our art is at the end of its
resources. Send for Mercy Merrick, no matter who she is or what she is.
There is just a chance--especially if she proves to be a sensible person
and a good nurse--that he may astonish you all by recognizing her. In
that case only, his recovery is probable. If you persist in disregarding
his entreaties, if you let the delirium go on for four-and-twenty hours
more, he is a dead man.' "Lady Janet was, most unluckily, present when this impudent opinion was
delivered at the bedside.
"Need I tell you the sequel? Called upon to choose between the course
indicated by a physician who is making his five thousand a year, and who
is certain of the next medical baronetcy, and the advice volunteered by
an obscure general practitioner at the East End of London, who is
not making his five hundred a year--need I stop to inform you of her
ladyship's decision? You know her; and you will only too well understand
that her next proceeding was to pay a third visit to the Refuge.