“I first met Miss Dear” he resumed after a pause, speaking like a witness “last Christmas. I called in at Baker Street and found the superintendent had four of her disengaged nurses down with influenza. At her request I ran up to see them. Miss Dear was one of the number. Since that date she has summoned me at all hours on any and every pretext. What I can, I have done for her. She knows perfectly well her condition. She has her back against the wall. She’s making a splendid fight. But the one thing that would give her a chance she obstinately refuses to do. Last summer I found for her employment in a nursing home in the South of France. She refused to go, though I told her plainly what would be the result of another winter in England.”
“Ought she to marry?” said Miriam suddenly, closely watching him.
“Is she thinking of marrying, my dear girl” he answered, looking at his nails.
“Well of course she might——”
“Is there a sweetheart on the horizon?”
“Well she inspires a great deal of affection. I think she is inspiring affection now.”
Dr. Densley threw back his head with a laugh that caught his breath and gasped in and out on a high tone, leaving his silent mouth wide open when he again faced Miriam with the laughter still in his eyes.
“Tell me my dear girl” he said smiting her knee with gentle affection, “is there someone who would like to marry her?”
“What I want to know” said Miriam very briskly “is whether such a person ought to know about the state of her health.” She found herself cold and trembling as she asked. Miss Dear’s eyes seemed fixed upon her.
“The chance of a tuberculous woman in marriage” recited Dr. Densley “is a holding up of the disease with the first child; after the second she usually fails.”