“But—these terrible bruises, sir! What is your——”
“It is too much the custom with men of our profession, to oppose the efforts of nature; but I love to assist them, madam—I love to assist them.”
“You are quite right, sir. But, do you think those bruises will be of any consequence?”
“Depend upon it, madam, depend upon it, there is always a revulsion, as it were, towards right; a rebounding, a returning, in nature to her usual functions, as first ordained by her all, wise Creator; and our part, is carefully to watch those movements. And when the elasticity of any power is impaired by the forcible, or long continued pressure of adventitious circumstances; first, to remove the weight of such, and then, by gentle stimulants, to restore buoyancy to the injured spring; thus, madam—thus, I ever doff my cap to Nature!”
The doctor having arrived at what seemed a pause, at least, if not a conclusion, Frances had some hopes of being heard; and, by way of exordium, said,
“Your system, sir, is as judicious as it is pious.”
“I am not presumptuous, madam!” again interrupted the doctor; “I am not presumptuous—”
“And I should like,” persisted Frances, “to have the opinion of one so skilful, respecting the bruises of this poor child.”
The doctor’s ear at length caught the word. “The bruises, madam! the bruises! They have been inflicted by a cruel and most unsparing hand! No doubt of it, madam—no doubt of it! Who was it that beat you in this shocking manner, my little dear?” he continued, stroking the child’s head good-naturedly.