By the Authors of "THE MEDICINE LADY."
VII.—THE HORROR OF STUDLEY GRANGE.
I was in my consulting-room one morning, and had just said good-bye to the last of my patients, when my servant came in and told me that a lady had called who pressed very earnestly for an interview with me.
"I told her that you were just going out, sir," said the man, "and she saw the carriage at the door; but she begged to see you, if only for two minutes. This is her card."
I read the words, "Lady Studley."
"Show her in," I said, hastily, and the next moment a tall, slightly-made, fair-haired girl entered the room.
She looked very young, scarcely more than twenty, and I could hardly believe that she was, what her card indicated, a married woman.
The colour rushed into her cheeks as she held out her hand to me. I motioned her to a chair, and then asked her what I could do for her.
"Oh, you can help me," she said, clasping her hands and speaking in a slightly theatrical manner. "My husband, Sir Henry Studley, is very unwell, and I want you to come to see him—can you?—will you?"