wonder if he were sickening for something," I replied, with a smile.
"Gad, you're a cold-blooded devil!" he blurted out, and then, "I mean all doctors seem to be naturally hard-hearted and unfeeling—eh, what?"
"Not all, not by a long way; some are different. I, personally, practise to make money, not for the sake of curing the sufferer, if that's what you mean."
Next day the boy had a headache, and two days later his temperature jumped up, and when I told his mother she openly deplored the recent death of her regular medical attendant, and practically insisted on a consultation with one of the leading physicians in London.
He came in the evening, but could throw no light on the case; the rash had not yet appeared. Luckily for me he regarded the illness very lightly; but when on the following day the typical red rash did come, and he was again sent for from the hotel, he changed his opinion, and diagnosed a virulent attack of scarlet fever.
"You were right, d'Escombe," the Captain remarked to me later, with a curious look in his eyes.
