Chapter 125
"What a funny old fellow!" thought Philip.
He soon discovered why Doctor South's a.s.sistants found it difficult to get on with him. In the first place, he set his face firmly against all the discoveries of the last thirty years: he had no patience with the drugs which became modish, were thought to work marvellous cures, and in a few years were discarded; he had stock mixtures which he had brought from St.
Luke's where he had been a student, and had used all his life; he found them just as efficacious as anything that had come into fas.h.i.+on since.
Philip was startled at Doctor South's suspicion of asepsis; he had accepted it in deference to universal opinion; but he used the precautions which Philip had known insisted upon so scrupulously at the hospital with the disdainful tolerance of a man playing at soldiers with children.
"I've seen antiseptics come along and sweep everything before them, and then I've seen asepsis take their place. Bunk.u.m!"
The young men who were sent down to him knew only hospital practice; and they came with the unconcealed scorn for the General Pract.i.tioner which they had absorbed in the air at the hospital; but they had seen only the complicated cases which appeared in the wards; they knew how to treat an obscure disease of the suprarenal bodies, but were helpless when consulted for a cold in the head. Their knowledge was theoretical and their self-a.s.surance unbounded. Doctor South watched them with tightened lips; he took a savage pleasure in showing them how great was their ignorance and how unjustified their conceit. It was a poor practice, of fis.h.i.+ng folk, and the doctor made up his own prescriptions. Doctor South asked his a.s.sistant how he expected to make both ends meet if he gave a fisherman with a stomach-ache a mixture consisting of half a dozen expensive drugs.
He complained too that the young medical men were uneducated: their reading consisted of The Sporting Times and The British Medical Journal; they could neither write a legible hand nor spell correctly. For two or three days Doctor South watched Philip closely, ready to fall on him with acid sarcasm if he gave him the opportunity; and Philip, aware of this, went about his work with a quiet sense of amus.e.m.e.nt. He was pleased with the change of occupation. He liked the feeling of independence and of responsibility. All sorts of people came to the consulting-room. He was gratified because he seemed able to inspire his patients with confidence; and it was entertaining to watch the process of cure which at a hospital necessarily could be watched only at distant intervals. His rounds took him into low-roofed cottages in which were fis.h.i.+ng tackle and sails and here and there mementoes of deep-sea travelling, a lacquer box from j.a.pan, spears and oars from Melanesia, or daggers from the bazaars of Stamboul; there was an air of romance in the stuffy little rooms, and the salt of the sea gave them a bitter freshness. Philip liked to talk to the sailor-men, and when they found that he was not supercilious they told him long yarns of the distant journeys of their youth.
Once or twice he made a mistake in diagnosis: (he had never seen a case of measles before, and when he was confronted with the rash took it for an obscure disease of the skin;) and once or twice his ideas of treatment differed from Doctor South's. The first time this happened Doctor South attacked him with savage irony; but Philip took it with good humour; he had some gift for repartee, and he made one or two answers which caused Doctor South to stop and look at him curiously. Philip's face was grave, but his eyes were twinkling. The old gentleman could not avoid the impression that Philip was chaffing him. He was used to being disliked and feared by his a.s.sistants, and this was a new experience. He had half a mind to fly into a pa.s.sion and pack Philip off by the
"d.a.m.n his impudence," he chuckled to himself. "d.a.m.n his impudence."
CXVII
Philip had written to Athelny to tell him that he was doing a loc.u.m in Dorsets.h.i.+re and in due course received an answer from him. It was written in the formal manner he affected, studded with pompous epithets as a Persian diadem was studded with precious stones; and in the beautiful hand, like black letter and as difficult to read, upon which he prided himself. He suggested that Philip should join him and his family in the Kentish hop-field to which he went every year; and to persuade him said various beautiful and complicated things about Philip's soul and the winding tendrils of the hops. Philip replied at once that he would come on the first day he was free. Though not born there, he had a peculiar affection for the Isle of Thanet, and he was fired with enthusiasm at the thought of spending a fortnight so close to the earth and amid conditions which needed only a blue sky to be as idyllic as the olive groves of Arcady.
The four weeks of his engagement at Farnley pa.s.sed quickly. On the cliff a new town was springing up, with red brick villas round golf links, and a large hotel had recently been opened to cater for the summer visitors; but Philip went there seldom. Down below, by the harbour, the little stone houses of a past century were cl.u.s.tered in a delightful confusion, and the narrow streets, climbing down steeply, had an air of antiquity which appealed to the imagination. By the water's edge were neat cottages with trim, tiny gardens in front of them; they were inhabited by retired captains in the merchant service, and by mothers or widows of men who had gained their living by the sea; and they had an appearance which was quaint and peaceful. In the little harbour came tramps from Spain and the Levant, s.h.i.+ps of small tonnage; and now and then a windjammer was borne in by the winds of romance. It reminded Philip of the dirty little harbour with its colliers at Blackstable, and he thought that there he had first acquired the desire, which was now an obsession, for Eastern lands and sunlit islands in a tropic sea. But here you felt yourself closer to the wide, deep ocean than on the sh.o.r.e of that North Sea which seemed always circ.u.mscribed; here you could draw a long breath as you looked out upon the even vastness; and the west wind, the dear soft salt wind of England, uplifted the heart and at the same time melted it to tenderness.
One evening, when Philip had reached his last week with Doctor South, a child came to the surgery door while the old doctor and Philip were making up prescriptions. It was a little ragged girl with a dirty face and bare feet. Philip opened the door.
"Please, sir, will you come to Mrs. Fletcher's in Ivy Lane at once?"
"What's the matter with Mrs. Fletcher?" called out Doctor South in his rasping voice.
The child took no notice of him, but addressed herself again to Philip.
"Please, sir, her little boy's had an accident and will you come at once?"
"Tell Mrs. Fletcher I'm coming," called out Doctor South.
The little girl hesitated for a moment, and putting a dirty finger in a dirty mouth stood still and looked at Philip.
"What's the matter, Kid?" said Philip, smiling.
"Please, sir, Mrs. Fletcher says, will the new doctor come?" There was a sound in the dispensary and Doctor South came out into the pa.s.sage.
"Isn't Mrs. Fletcher satisfied with me?" he barked. "I've attended Mrs.
Fletcher since she was born. Why aren't I good enough to attend her filthy brat?"
The little girl looked for a moment as though she were going to cry, then she thought better of it; she put out her tongue deliberately at Doctor South, and, before he could recover from his astonishment, bolted off as fast as she could run. Philip saw that the old gentleman was annoyed.
"You look rather f.a.gged, and it's a goodish way to Ivy Lane," he said, by way of giving him an excuse not to go himself.
Doctor South gave a low snarl.
"It's a d.a.m.ned sight nearer for a man who's got the use of both legs than for a man who's only got one and a half."
Philip reddened and stood silent for a while.
"Do you wish me to go or will you go yourself?" he said at last frigidly.
"What's the good of my going? They want you."
Philip took up his hat and went to see the patient. It was hard upon eight o'clock when he came back. Doctor South was standing in the dining-room with his back to the fireplace.
"You've been a long time," he said.
"I'm sorry. Why didn't you start dinner?"
"Because I chose to wait. Have you been all this while at Mrs.
Fletcher's?"
"No, I'm afraid I haven't. I stopped to look at the sunset on my way back, and I didn't think of the time."
Doctor South did not reply, and the servant brought in some grilled sprats. Philip ate them with an excellent appet.i.te. Suddenly Doctor South shot a question at him.
"Why did you look at the sunset?"
Philip answered with his mouth full.
"Because I was happy."
Doctor South gave him an odd look, and the shadow of a smile flickered across his old, tired face. They ate the rest of the dinner in silence; but when the maid had given them the port and left the room, the old man leaned back and fixed his sharp eyes on Philip.
"It stung you up a bit when I spoke of your game leg, young fellow?" he said.
"People always do, directly or indirectly, when they get angry with me."
"I suppose they know it's your weak point."
Philip faced him and looked at him steadily.
"Are you very glad to have discovered it?"
The doctor did not answer, but he gave a chuckle of bitter mirth. They sat for a while staring at one another. Then Doctor South surprised Philip extremely.
"Why don't you stay here and I'll get rid of that d.a.m.ned fool with his mumps?"
"It's very kind of you, but I hope to get an appointment at the hospital in the autumn. It'll help me so much in getting other work later."
"I'm offering you a partners.h.i.+p," said Doctor South grumpily.
"Why?" asked Philip, with surprise.