"I had no idea," stammered the patient, "no idea that my—husband had sent for a doctor. There is no need, I am well, I am only a little tired."
"Just what he told me," said Dymock good-humouredly. "I expect you are both right. You can't wonder at his being a bit anxious, can you?" He glanced up humorously at Grover, who had evidently had strict orders to remain, and who stood primly by the bed. She smiled, however, at his question.
"Indeed, sir, I think the master is quite right. Mrs. Gaunt is thoroughly overdone," said she. "I daresay he told you, sir, as he told us, that she has been going in for this here domestic science work. Young ladies like her, sir, is not fit for it. If you'll believe me, she has been actually washing clothes! That is, she says she had in a woman to help, but it's a sin, sir, for the likes of her. However, now we've put our foot down"—she cast a glance of real kindness at the wistful creature lying there. "There's plenty of us here, sir, to wait on her, hand and foot; and in a few days you'll see she'll be a different thing—a different thing altogether. It is her knees I want you to look at particular, sir, after you've took her pulse, of course."
*****
When the doctor came downstairs the bridegroom was standing at the hall door, his hands deep thrust in his pockets, gazing out gloomily over the thick and shadowy pinewood.
As Dymock approached, he turned, fixing his eyes upon him. The doctor stood, drawing on his riding gloves, and did not at first speak.
"Well?" said Gaunt at last, with an odd air of exploding.
"Well, I am a little puzzled. No doubt there is debility as a result of overwork, but there is more than that. To tell you the actual truth, your wife has been starving herself. You see, that is a queer, unnatural symptom. When a healthy girl starves herself, it means one of two things. Either her nerves are all to pieces—she is what we call hysterical—or in the alternative—why, she simply hasn't been able to get enough to eat. Now your wife shows no sign of hysteria that I can see, except for the undoubted fact that she is under-nourished. So——"
Gaunt folded his arms and looked away. "Dymock," he said unwillingly, "one's doctor keeps one's secrets—eh?"
Dymock raised his clear steady eyes and looked full at him. "I do," was all he said.