I felt almost inclined to say that doctors themselves were curiously lax on the subject, but I was too much alarmed at his having put his finger on the spot at once to enter into an abstract discussion on the ethics of the medical profession.
I was drawing him out in order to see how much he had guessed, when his colleague came out of Lord Gascoyne’s apartment and called him in. Coming along the corridor I met Esther Lane, seeking for news. I went towards her. Was it my fancy, or did she shrink from me? It seemed to me that she did, but I was in a weak, morbid state of mind, in which I was a prey to fears of my own shadow. It was a dreary trio that met round the breakfast-table. Lady Gascoyne did not appear, and Esther always took her meals with her charge, except when she was specially asked by Lady Gascoyne to join herself and her friends.
One of the doctors came in, but brought only bad news. In answer to Mrs. Gascoyne’s inquiries he threw up his hands.
“We do not know what to make of it, and——”
He paused, as if afraid to go on.
“Please tell us,” said my wife anxiously.
“Well, of course, while there is life there is hope, but——”
“You don’t think——”
“I am afraid we must prepare for the worst.”
There was a long pause. The two women were horrified. I rose and went to the window, as I knew not what guilt my face might betray.