Lady Cicely confirmed this.
“All the better,” said Dr. Staines upon reflection. “Well, sir,” said he, “the visible injuries having been ably relieved, I shall look another way for the cause.” Then, after another pause, “I must have his head shaved.”
Lady Cicely demurred a little to this; but Dr. Staines stood firm, and his lordship's valet undertook the job.
Staines directed him where to begin; and when he had made a circular tonsure on the top of the head, had it sponged with tepid water.
“I thought so,” said he. “Here is the mischief;” and he pointed to a very slight indentation on the left side of the pia mater. “Observe,” said he, “there is no corresponding indentation on the other side. Underneath this trifling depression a minute piece of bone is doubtless pressing on the most sensitive part of the brain. He must be trephined.”
Mr. White's eyes sparkled.
“You are an hospital surgeon, sir?”
“Yes, Dr. Staines. I have no fear of the operation.”
“Then I hand the patient over to you. The case at present is entirely surgical.”
White was driven home, and soon returned with the requisite instruments. The operation was neatly performed, and then Lady Cicely was called in. She came trembling; her brother's fingers were still working, but not so regularly.