As thus: 'Mrs Bangham,' said the doctor, before he had been there twenty minutes,
'go outside and fetch a little brandy, or we shall have you giving in.' 'Thank you, sir. But none on my accounts,' said Mrs Bangham. 'Mrs Bangham,' returned the doctor, 'I am in professional attendance
on this lady, and don't choose to allow any discussion on your part. Go
outside and fetch a little brandy, or I foresee that you'll break down.'
'You're to be obeyed, sir,' said Mrs Bangham, rising. 'If you was to put
your own lips to it, I think you wouldn't be the worse, for you look but
poorly, sir.' 'Mrs Bangham,' returned the doctor, 'I am not your business, thank you,
but you are mine. Never you mind ME, if you please. What you have got to
do, is, to do as you are told, and to go and get what I bid you.'
Mrs Bangham submitted; and the doctor, having administered her
potion, took his own. He repeated the treatment every hour, being very
determined with Mrs Bangham. Three or four hours passed; the flies
fell into the traps by hundreds; and at length one little life, hardly
stronger than theirs, appeared among the multitude of lesser deaths.
'A very nice little girl indeed,' said the doctor; 'little, but
well-formed. Halloa, Mrs Bangham! You're looking queer! You be off,
ma'am, this minute, and fetch a little more brandy, or we shall have you
in hysterics.' By this time, the rings had begun to fall from the debtor's irresolute
hands, like leaves from a wintry tree. Not one was left upon them that
night, when he put something that chinked into the doctor's greasy palm.
In the meantime Mrs Bangham had been out on an errand to a neighbouring
establishment decorated with three golden balls, where she was very well
known. 'Thank you,' said the doctor, 'thank you. Your good lady is quite
composed. Doing charmingly.'
'I am very happy and very thankful to know it,' said the debtor, 'though
I little thought once, that--' 'That a child would be born to you in a place like this?' said the
doctor. 'Bah, bah, sir, what does it signify? A little more elbow-room
is all we want here. We are quiet here; we don't get badgered here;
there's no knocker here, sir, to be hammered at by creditors and bring a
man's heart into his mouth. Nobody comes here to ask if a man's at
home, and to say he'll stand on the door mat till he is. Nobody writes
threatening letters about money to this place. It's freedom, sir, it's
freedom! I have had to-day's practice at home and abroad, on a march,
and aboard ship, and I'll tell you this: I don't know that I have ever
pursued it under such quiet circumstances as here this day. Elsewhere,
people are restless, worried, hurried about, anxious respecting one
thing, anxious respecting another. Nothing of the kind here, sir. We
have done all that--we know the worst of it; we have got to the bottom,
we can't fall, and what have we found? Peace. That's the word for
it. Peace.'