‘I have it on better that she is now perfectly recovered.’
‘May I ask who is your informant?’ Sir Rupert blandly enquired.
‘One of the attendants at the asylum.’
‘A skilled practitioner? A medical man?’
‘Well, no; not exactly. He was, in fact, formerly in the Duke’s Own.’
‘As a surgeon?’
‘No, in the ranks.’
‘And you would set up his opinion—the opinion of an illiterate, untrained man—against that of the highest medical authority in the country? Really, Mr. Larkins—’
‘He’s an honest, straightforward man, Sir Rupert, with plenty of common sense. His judgment may be at fault, but at any rate his opinion is certain to be unbiassed and unprejudiced; he assures me that Lady Farrington is perfectly fit to take care of herself, and ought to be immediately set at large.’
‘I cannot agree with your friend. I have seen her only within these last few days, and I think she is as bad as ever.’