"Not dangerous; it is a prescription that will do neither harm nor good. I suspect Sir Alexander could not detect the nature of the illness, and wrote this merely to gain time. It is not an infrequent custom to do so. In my opinion, not an hour should be lost in giving him a more efficacious medicine; early treatment is everything in scarlet-fever."
Lady Hartledon had been rapidly making up her mind. "Send in what you think right to be taken, immediately," she said, "and meet Sir Alexander in consultation later on."
Scarlet-fever it proved to be; not a mild form of it; and in a very few hours Lord Elster was in great danger, the throat being chiefly affected. The house was in commotion; the dowager worse than any one in it. A complication of fears beset her: first, terror for her own safety, and next, the less abject dread that death might remove her grandchild. In this latter fear she partly lost her personal fears, so far at any rate as to remain in the house; for it seemed to her that the child would inevitably die if she left it. Late in the afternoon she rushed into the presence of the doctors, who had just been holding a second consultation.
Sir Alexander Pepps recommended leeches to the throat: Mr. Brook disapproved of them. "It is the one chance for his life," said Sir Alexander.
"It is removing nearly all chance," said Mr. Brook.
Sir Alexander prevailed; and when they came forth it was understood that leeches were to be applied. But here Lady Hartledon stepped in.
"I dread leeches to the throat, Sir Alexander, if you will forgive me for saying so. I have twice seen them applied in scarlet-fever; and the patients—one a young lady, the other a child—in both cases died."
"Madam, I have given my opinion," curtly returned the physician. "They are necessary in Lord Elster's case."
"Do you approve of leeches?" cried Lady Hartledon, turning to Mr. Brook.
"Not altogether," was the cautious answer.