“You prove yourself quite worthy of your reputation, which has often reached us.”
“Any surgeon could have done what I have, sir,” replied Chester, shortly, and then mastering himself, he continued, as he thought of home and all he had at stake, “I presume that now you are at rest about your cousin’s state, this sorry farce is at an end.”
“Very nearly a tragedy, my dear sir,” said the other, lightly.
“You mistake me, sir. I mean this enforced detention.”
“Oh, tut, tut, doctor! I thought we had settled this. Surely after your telegram, taken to the chief office, madam, your wife, will not be uneasy.”
As he spoke he gave the lady by the couch a mocking look, and Chester saw her turn angrily away.
It was on the doctor’s lips to say sharply, “I am not married, sir,” and he felt startled as he checked himself.
Why should he have been so eager to say that? he thought, and a peculiar feeling of resentment grew within, as a strange conscience-pricking began to startle him. Of what folly had he been guilty in thought?
“Come, doctor, we have been waiting till you woke before having some breakfast.”
The speaker rose and touched the electric bell-push, then led the way toward a small table at the far end of the room, the others waiting for the doctor to follow; but he stood irresolute.