Letter, Margot Verger to Dr. Chilton
Albemarle Hotel, 31 September.
Dear Frederick,—
I want you to do me a favor. Alana is ill; that is, she has no special disease, but she looks awful, and is getting worse every day. I have asked her if there is any cause; I do not dare to ask her mother, for to disturb the poor lady's mind about her daughter in her present state of health would be fatal. Mrs. Bloom has confided to me that her doom is spoken—disease of the heart. I am sure that there is something preying on my dear Alana's mind. I am almost distracted when I think of her; to look at her gives me a pang. I told her I should ask you to see her, and though she demurred at first—I know why, old fellow—she finally consented.
It will be a painful task for you, I know, old friend, but it is for her sake, and I must not hesitate to ask, or you to act. You are to come to lunch at Hillingham to-morrow, two o'clock, so as not to arouse any suspicion in Mrs. Bloom, and after lunch Alana will take an opportunity of being alone with you. I shall come in for tea, and we can go away together; I am filled with anxiety, and want to consult with you alone as soon as I can after you have seen her. Do not fail!
Margot
Telegram, Margot Verger to Frederick Chilton
1 October.
Am summoned to see my brother who has shown up unexpectedly in England. Am writing. Write me fully by tonight's post to Manchester. Wire me if necessary – Margot
Letter from Dr. Chilton to Margot Verger.
2 October.
My dear friend,—
With regard to Miss Bloom's health I hasten to let you know at once that in my opinion there is not any functional disturbance or any malady that I know of. At the same time, I am not by any means satisfied with her appearance; she is woefully different from what she was when I saw her last. Of course you must bear in mind that I did not have the full opportunity of examination such as I should wish; our very friendship makes a little difficulty which not even medical science or custom can bridge over.
I had better tell you exactly what happened, leaving you to draw, in a measure, your own conclusions. I shall then say what I have done and propose doing.
I found Miss Bloom in seemingly gay spirits. Her mother was present, and in a few seconds I made up my mind that she was trying all she knew to mislead her mother and prevent her from being anxious. I have no doubt she guesses, if she does not know, what need of caution there is. We lunched alone, and as we all exerted ourselves to be cheerful, we got, as some kind of reward for our labors, some real cheerfulness amongst us. Then Mrs. Bloom went to lie down, and Alana was left with me and Mr. Graham. We went into her boudoir, and till we got there her gaiety remained, for the servants were coming and going.
As soon as the door was closed, however, the mask fell from her face, and she sank down into a chair with a great sigh, and hid her eyes with her hand. When I saw that her high spirits had failed, I at once took advantage of her reaction to make a diagnosis. She said to me very sweetly:—
'I cannot tell you how I loathe talking about myself.' I reminded her that a doctor's confidence was sacred, but that you were grievously anxious about her. She caught on to my meaning at once, and settled that matter in a word. 'Tell Margot everything you choose. I do not care for myself, but all for her! And Will is to be here and hear it all as well.' So I am quite free.
I could easily see that she is somewhat bloodless, but I could not see the usual anæmic signs. Mr. Graham was kind enough to prick her finger for me with a sterilized needle (you know I do feel a bit faint at the sight of blood myself) and I gathered a sample to analyze. The qualitative analysis gives a quite normal condition, and shows, I should infer, in itself a vigorous state of health. In other physical matters I was quite satisfied that there is no need for anxiety; but as there must be a cause somewhere, I have come to the conclusion that it must be something mental.
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