"Some very strange and agitating recollection it would seem by your manner, Mr. Burkham," said Valentine, at once assured that there was something more than common in the surgeon's look and gesture; and determined to fathom the mystery, let it be what it might.
"O dear no," said the surgeon nervously; "I was not agitated, only surprised. It was surprising to me to hear the name of a patient so long forgotten. And so the lady to whom you are engaged is a daughter of Mr. Halliday's? The wife—Mrs. Halliday—is still living, I suppose?"
"Yes; but the lady who was then Mrs. Halliday is now Mrs. Sheldon."
"Of course; he married her," said Mr. Burkham. "Yes; I remember hearing of the marriage."
He had tried in vain to recover his old composure. He was white to the lips, and his hand shook as he tried to arrange his scattered papers.
"What does it mean?" thought Valentine. "Mrs. Sheldon talked of this man's inexperience. Can it be that his incompetency lost the life of his patient, and that he knows it was so?"
"Mrs. Halliday is now Mrs. Sheldon," repeated the surgeon, in a feeble manner. "Yes, I remember; and Mr. Sheldon—the dentist, who at that time resided in Fitzgeorge Street—is he still living?"
"He is still living. It was he who called in Dr. Doddleson to attend upon Miss Halliday. As her stepfather, he has some amount of authority, you see; not legal authority—for my dear girl is of age—but social authority. He called in Doddleson, and appears to place confidence in him; and as he is something of a medical man himself, and pretends to understand Miss Halliday's case thoroughly—"
"Stop!" cried Mr. Burkham, suddenly abandoning all pretence of calmness.
"Has he—Sheldon—any interest in his stepdaughter's death?"
"No, certainly not. All her father's money went to him upon his marriage with her mother. He can gain nothing by her death; on the contrary, he may lose a good deal, for she is the heir-at-law to a large fortune."