His face flushed, and drops stood on his forehead. "Surely, Miss--I mean Doctor--Breen, you must know why I can't consult with you! We belong to two diametrically opposite schools--theories--of medicine. It would be impracticable--impossible for us to consult. We could find no common ground. Have you never heard that the--ah regular practice cannot meet homoeopathists in this way? If you had told me--if I had known--you were a homoeopathist, I could n't have considered the matter at all. I can't now express any opinion as to your management of the case, but I have no doubt that you will know what to do--from your point of view--and that you will prefer to call in some one of your own--persuasion. I hope that you don't hold me personally responsible for this result!"
"Oh, no!" replied the girl, with a certain dreamy abstraction. "I had heard that you made some such distinction--I remember, now. But I could n't realize anything so ridiculous."
Dr. Mulbridge colored. " Excuse me," he said, "if, even under the circumstances, I can't agree with you that the position taken by the regular practice is ridiculous."
She did not make any direct reply. "But I supposed that you only made this distinction, as you call it, in cases where there is no immediate danger; that in a matter of life and death you would waive it. Mrs.
Maynard is really--"
"There are no conditions under which I could not conscientiously refuse to waive it."
"Then," cried Grace, "I withdraw the word! It is not ridiculous. It is monstrous, atrocious, inhuman!"
A light of humorous irony glimmered in Dr. Mulbridge's eye. "I must submit to your condemnation."
"Oh, it isn't a personal condemnation!" she retorted. "I have no doubt that personally you are not responsible. We can lay aside our distinctions as allopathist and homoeopathist, and you can advise with me"--"It's quite impossible," said Dr. Mulbridge. "If I advised with you, I might be--A little while ago one of our school in Connecticut was expelled from the State Medical Association for consulting with"--he began to hesitate, as if he had not hit upon a fortunate or appropriate illustration, but he pushed on--"with his own wife, who was a physician of your school."
She haughtily ignored his embarrassment. "I can appreciate your difficulty, and pity any liberal-minded person who is placed as you are, and disapproves of such wretched bigotry."
"I am obliged to tell you," said Dr. Mulbridge, "that I don't disapprove of it."
"I am detaining you," said Grace. "I beg your pardon. I was curious to know how far superstition and persecution can go in our day." If the epithets were not very accurate, she used them with a woman's effectiveness, and her intention made them descriptive. "Good-day," she added, and she made a movement toward the door, from which Dr. Mulbridge retired. But she did not open the door. Instead, she sank into the chair which stood in the corner, and passed her hand over her forehead, as if she were giddy.
Dr. Mulbridge's finger was instantly on her wrist. "Are you faint?"
"No, no!" she gasped, pulling her hand away. "I am perfectly well."
Then she was silent for a time before she added by a supreme effort, "I have no right to endanger another's life, through any miserable pride, and I never will. Mrs. Maynard needs greater experience than mine, and she must have it. I can't justify myself in the delay and uncertainty of sending to Boston. I relinquish the case. I give it to you. And I will nurse her under your direction, obediently, conscientiously. Oh!" she cried, at his failure to make any immediate response, "surely you won't refuse to take the case!"
"I won't refuse," he said, with an effect of difficult concession.
"I will come. I will drive over at once, after dinner."
She rose now, and put her hand on the door-latch. "Do you object to my nursing your patient? She is an old school friend. But I could yield that point too, if"--"Oh, no, no! I shall be only too glad of your help, and your"--he was going to say advice, but he stopped himself, and repeated--"help."
They stood inconclusively a moment, as if they would both be glad of something more to say. Then she said tentatively, "Good-morning," and be responded experimentally, "Good-morning"; and with that they involuntarily parted, and she went out of the door, which he stood holding open even after she had got out of the gate.
His mother came down the stairs. "What in the world were you quarrelling with that girl about, Rufus?"
"We were not quarrelling, mother."
"Well, it sounded like it. Who was she?
"Who?" repeated her son absently. "Dr. Breen."
"Doctor Breen? That girl a doctor?"
"Yes."
"I thought she was some saucy thing. Well, upon my word!" exclaimed Mrs.
Mulbridge. "So that is a female doctor, is it? Was she sick?"
"No," said her son, with what she knew to be professional finality."
Mother, if you can hurry dinner a little, I shall be glad. I have to drive over to Jocelyn's, and I should like to start as soon as possible."
"Who was the young man with her? Her beau, I guess."
"Was there a young man with her?" asked Dr. Mulbridge.
His mother went out without'speaking. She could be unsatisfactory, too.
