Perhaps—perhaps after all I may have been mistaken!
I reached London, and Dr. B—— ‘s residence that evening, and my worthy relative quickly explained the object of his summons. He wished me to undertake, with his supervision, a case requiring the utmost care and consideration; one which rendered it necessary that a medical man should reside for a time beneath the same roof as his patient, and be with him night and day.
This patient was Lord Welbury, a self-made man so far as his immense wealth was concerned; but he came of an ancient and honourable race.
I accepted the munificent conditions offered, and within a couple of hours of my arrival in town was driven to Lord Welbury’s house in Belgravia, and entered upon the duties of my post.
For some days and nights my responsibilities absorbed all my attention. The life of a sick man hung on a thread, my medical capacity was taxed to its utmost; I knew not, nor cared I, for the time being, what went on outside that chamber.
The crisis passed, my patient began rapidly to recover. The first day that he was able to sit up in his room he asked me a startling question. He said: “Doctor, am I sane?”
“Your mind has never been affected,” I answered unhesitatingly. “Your lordship is as sane as I am.”
“Good. Therefore a will made by me now could not be invalid?”
“Most certainly not on the ground of incompetency.”