We are apt to forget ourselves on these
occasions. If I had only taken a glass or two, it would have made
little difference. But my system was stimulated beyond its wont,
and, I fear, will not be in the right tone to-day."
"You will have to bring it up, then, doctor," said the assistant.
"To touch that work with an unsteady hand might be death."
"A glass or two of wine will do it; but when I operate, I always
prefer to have my head clear. Stimulated nerves are not to be
depended upon, and the brain that has wine in it is never a sure
guide. A surgeon must see at the point of his instrument; and if
there be a mote or any obscurity in his mental vision, his hand,
instead of working a cure, may bring disaster."
"You operate at twelve?"
"Yes."
"You will be all right enough by that time; but it will not do to
visit many patients. I am sorry about this case of child-bed fever;
but I will see it again immediately after breakfast, and report."
While they were still talking the bell rang violently, and in a few
moments Mr. Ridley came dashing into the office. His face wore a
look of the deepest distress.
"Oh, doctor, he exclaimed can't you do something for my wife? She'll
die if you don't. Oh, do go to her again!"
"Has any change taken place since we left?" asked Dr. Hillhouse,
with a professional calmness it required some effort to assume.
"She is in great distress, moaning and sobbing and crying out as if
in dreadful pain, and she doesn't know anything you say to her.
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