“Yes! I am afraid that it will be a little difficult to get my father to see you on such short notice.”
“I was about to explain to Lady Deringham, before I understood that you were in the house,” Dr. Wilmot said, “that although that would be an advantage, it is not absolutely necessary at present. I should of course have to examine your father before giving a definite opinion as to his case, but I can give you a very fair idea as to his condition without seeing him at all.”
Wolfenden and his mother exchanged glances.
“You must forgive us,” Wolfenden commenced hesitatingly, “but really I can scarcely understand.”
“Of course not,” their visitor interrupted brusquely. “My method is one which is doubtless altogether strange to you, but if you read the Lancet or the Medical Journal, you would have heard a good deal about it lately. I form my conclusions as to the mental condition of a patient almost altogether from a close inspection of their letters, or any work upon which they are, or have been, recently engaged. I do not say that it is possible to do this from a single letter, but when a man has a hobby, such as I understand Lord Deringham indulges in, and has devoted a great deal of time to real or imaginary work in connection with it, I am generally able, from a study of that work, to tell how far the brain is weakened, if at all, and in what manner it can be strengthened. This is only the crudest outline of my theory, but to be brief, I can give you my opinion as to Lord Deringham’s mental condition, and my advice as to its maintenance, if you will place before me the latest work upon which he has been engaged. I hope I have made myself clear.”
“Perfectly,” Wolfenden answered. “It sounds very reasonable and very interesting, but I am afraid that there are a few practical difficulties in the way. In the first place, my father does not show his work or any portion of it to any one. On the other hand he takes the most extraordinary precautions to maintain absolute secrecy with regard to it.”
“That,” Dr. Wilmot remarked, “is rather a bad feature of the case. It is a difficulty which I should imagine you could get over, though. You could easily frame some excuse to get him away from his study for a short time and leave me there. Of course the affair is in your hands altogether, and I am presuming that you are anxious to have an opinion as to your father’s state of health. I am not in the habit of seeking patients,” he added, a little stiffly. “I was interested in my friend Whitlett’s description of the case, and anxious to apply my theories to it, as it happens to differ in some respects from anything I have met with lately. Further, I may add,” he continued, glancing at the clock, “if anything is to be done it must be done quickly. I have no time to spare.”
“You had better,” Wolfenden suggested, “stay here for the night in any case. We will send you to the station, or into Cromer, as early as you like in the morning.”
“Absolutely impossible,” Dr. Wilmot replied briefly. “I am staying with friends in Cromer, and I have a consultation in town early to-morrow morning. You must really make up your minds at once whether you wish for my opinion or not.”
“I do not think,” Lady Deringham said, “that we need hesitate for a moment about that!”