"But you told me that she took no medicine!"
"Did I? Then I am telling my story very badly. She has some medicine which she always takes. It is a prescription which my father gave her a few months before he died. She had a bad attack of some nervous trouble then which seems to have been the beginning of everything. But that time she recovered and it was not until after father's death that the headaches began again. Father's prescription must, long ago, have lost all effect, or why should the trouble get worse rather than better? But mother will not hear a word on the subject. She will take that medicine and nothing else."
"Do you know what the medicine is?"
"No. Father used to fill it for her himself. She says it is a very difficult prescription and she never has it filled in town, always in the city."
"But why? Taylor, here, is quite capable of filling any prescription. He is a most capable dispenser."
"Yes—I know. But mother will not believe it."
"And you say it does her no good whatever?"
"She thinks that it does. She has a wonderful belief in it. But she gets no better."
The doctor looked very thoughtful.
"She will not allow you to try any kind of compress for her head?"