VII
Christina was moaning in the bed with Diana locked in her arms when the Miss Bannisters’ Brother sat down beside her. “Come,” he said gently, “let me feel your pulse.”
Christina pushed her wrist towards him wearily.
“Oh no, not yours!” he said, with a little laugh. “Yours doesn’t matter. I meant this little lady’s. I’m not your doctor. I’m a doll’s doctor.”
Christina turned her poor flushed face towards him for the first time. A doll’s doctor—it was a new idea. And he really seemed to be all right—not anyone dressed up to make her feel foolish or coax her into taking horrid medicine. “Was it your carriage I heard?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I have come on purpose. But so many dolls are ill just now that I must be getting away soon. It’s quite a bad time for dolls, especially French ones. They are very delicate.”
“Mine is French,” Christina said, growing really interested.
“How very curious!” he answered. “I had a French patient the other day—a Parisian—whose sight had become so weak that she had to wear glasses. And now for the pulse,” he went on, and he drew out a large gold watch.
Mrs. Tiverton was looking on with tears in her eyes. Christina had not taken this quiet interest in anything or kept so still in bed for many hours. Not even the sleeping draught had had any effect.
The Miss Bannisters’ Brother held Diana’s tiny wrist and looked very grave. “Dear, dear!” he said, “I ought to have been sent for before, and then I could have cured her here in your arms. As it is, I must take her to the light. Won’t you have that nice jelly while I am treating Miss——? Let me see, what is my patient’s name?”
“Diana,” Christina said.
“Ah, yes—Miss Diana. By the time you have finished the jelly I ought to have finished my visit.” So saying he rose and carried Diana to the window-seat behind the curtains, while Mrs. Tiverton gave Christina the jelly. Christina took it, nurse said afterwards, like a lamb—though I never saw a lamb take jelly.
Meanwhile, the Miss Bannisters’ Brother had taken some tools and a tube of seccotine from his pocket, and he had lifted up Diana’s hair, cut a hole in her head, and was busily readjusting the machinery of her eyes. It was all done in five minutes, just as Christina was eating the last mouthful. “There,” he said, returning to the bedside, “that’s all right. It was a very simple operation, and didn’t hurt at all. I think our patient can see now as well as ever.”
Christina peered into Diana’s face with a cry of joy, and sank back on the pillow in an ecstasy of content.
Neither Mrs. Tiverton nor the Miss Bannisters’ Brother dared to move for some minutes. While they sat there the doctor tip-toed in. He crossed to the bed and looked at Christina. “She’s asleep,” he said. “Splendid! She’s all right now. It was sleep she wanted more than anything. Don’t let her hear a sound, nurse, for hours.”
They found Roy waiting for the news. When he heard it he jumped for joy. His mother caught him up and hugged him. “You thoughtful little imp!” she cried—and, turning to the doctor, told him the story. He went off, laughing. “I shall take my door-plate down when I get home,” he called out as he drove off, “and send it round to you, Bannister. You’re the real doctor.”
When the Miss Bannisters drove back they found tea all ready, and Mrs. Tiverton would not hear of their leaving without it. And when they did leave, an hour later, they were all fast friends.