‘And pray who is to look after you?’ asks my wife reproachfully. ‘Who is to see that you take your meals properly, and don’t rush off to see your patients, leaving your dinner untasted on the table?’
Mentally I confess that I should probably be poorly off without my Mary Anne; but it is a bad plan to encourage vanity in one’s wife, so I say: ‘Oh, I should do very well by myself;’ and with a parting nod betake myself to my daily duty.
In the village I meet Mrs Ogilvie, basket in hand. She doesn’t look well, and I say so.
‘You have no business out in the heat of the day,’ I tell her. ‘You are not a Hercules, and you will only be knocking yourself up. What will your husband say, if he does not find you looking your best when he comes back?’
A shade passes over her face. ‘Ah! he would not be pleased,’ she says rather gravely; ‘he always likes to see me look my very best and prettiest.’
‘Well then, as your doctor, I must forbid your doing any more cottage-visiting just at present. You are not looking strong, and going into those close houses is not good for you. I will come and see you on my way back.’
Which I do. I find there is nothing the matter with her; she is only a little languid. Perhaps the weather has affected her; perhaps she is wearying for her husband; and I prescribe a tonic, which I think will soon set her to rights. I do not remain long with her, for I have an unspoken anxiety, and I am in a hurry to get home.
‘You had better send the children away to-morrow morning, Mary Anne,’ I say as soon as I get in. ‘Mrs Black is very ill, and I am afraid—I cannot quite tell yet, but I am afraid—she is going to have small-pox. Of course I shall have her removed at once, if I am right; but it may prove not to be an isolated case, and it will be as well to get the children out of the way. I shall try and persuade every one in the village to be vaccinated to-morrow.’
‘You will be clever if you manage that,’ says my wife. ‘I am afraid some of the people are very prejudiced against it. You know when the children and I were revaccinated three years ago, you could not persuade any of the villagers to be done at the same time.’
On the following day we despatch the children early to their aunt’s, under the care of an old servant; and as soon as I have seen them off, I go down to Mrs Black’s. To my consternation I find Mrs Ogilvie just leaving the house.