Cora and The Doctor: or, Revelations of A Physician's Wife

In the corner beyond the wardrobe, stands a beautiful piece of Italian statuary, representing a young girl bearing a basket of fruit. She has such a touching expression upon her lovely countenance that I can hardly persuade myself she is not imploring my sympathy.

I have described my own little boudoir more particularly than any other apartment, that you may be able to think of me where I shall spend most of my time.

Here I may court the muses. Indeed, I feel more than half inspired already, by the magnificent landscape before me.

    Afternoon.

I didn't quite understand, yesterday, what Frank meant about answering my questions to-day; but while I was busily writing this morning, I heard a gentle knock at the door. I sprang up and opened it for my husband.

He smiled when he saw how I was engaged, and wheeling the chair from the table to the window, sat down and took me on his knee.

"Well, Cora, how do you like your new home? Phebe has just expressed her opinion that 'you'll be wonted soon.'"

"Oh, it's beautiful!" I exclaimed, "why didn't you tell me, that I might have the pleasure of anticipating these beauties?"

"I could not be quite sure what fancies floated in your mind, and I had rather surprise than disappoint you."

"Oh, Frank, you surely know me better than that! but look there," said I, pointing to the beautiful lake before us. We looked in silence for a moment, when he laughed, and inquired if I had no questions to ask him. "I am ready," said he, "to undergo a regular catechising."

In an instant all my former fancies of my husband's poverty, and of my assisting him darted through my mind. I suppose, I looked rather sober, for he turned my face toward him with a questioning look.

"I imagined, you were poor," said I, hesitatingly.

Oh, what a merry peal of laughter rang through the room! It was a minute or more before he could recover himself, while I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. But laughing is contagious, and soon the absurdity of crying because I had the best husband in the world, and with him everything that heart could desire, caused me to join cordially with him.

However, he soon took both my hands in his, in a manner peculiar to him when he has anything special to say, and resumed, "It is high time, my love, you should know who you are." I will give you the substance of his story.

His father was a man of independent fortune, who died about eight years ago, soon after Frank reached his majority, and a few months subsequent to his graduation from college. Frank had always desired to be a physician, though his father and mother had hoped he would become a minister. The property was by will equally divided among the three, his mother, sister and himself.

Five of the years since his father's death he has spent in Europe, studying his profession, and travelling. During this time he returned twice to see his mother, and to direct about the estate. After this he passed eighteen months in one of the southern cities, practising medicine. Then determining to go abroad again, he passed the winter in Paris, where you remember, I first met him.

"I hardly know," said he, "where I should have been now, if you had said nay to one question, I asked. But I thank God for giving me my sweet wife." This, he said so seriously that I hid my face in his bosom to conceal my tears.

Then in a few words he delineated the person and character of his father, who was a very godly man, distinguished throughout the country for sound judgment, patriotism and benevolence. Frank described the heart-rending affliction of his mother, the asperities of which time had somewhat softened. She is but forty-eight years of age, though I had supposed her much older. She has received frequent proposals for a second marriage; but never for a moment could think of entering the matrimonial state, while her heart was so full of precious recollections of her deceased husband.

The Doctor looked quite serious, as he always does when his countenance is not lighted with a smile. But I diverted his thoughts with the request, "tell me about Emily."

"She is in temperament like my father," he replied, "full of life and spirit; ever ready to weep with those that weep, and to rejoice with those that rejoice; she is just one month older than you, Cora; time will prove," he added pleasantly, as he smoothed back my hair, "which is the wiser."

    Thursday, June 4th.

This morning, invitations have been sent to friends of the family for a levee at mother's cottage, in honor of the bride. Frank says my associates in town will be likely to be of a very promiscuous character. To-morrow evening I am to be introduced to the aristocracy, and afterwards to my husband's poor patients, of whom Emily affirms there are no inconsiderable number.

This is a shire town, and a court is in session here, which brings many distinguished members of the legal profession to the place. I am told it contains from eight to ten thousand inhabitants. I have seen some very beautiful country seats; and I should think it well laid out.

There is a principal street running through the centre, lined with houses. Upon it private dwellings are interspersed with shops, stores, ware-rooms, and other places of business. The main street is very wide, and at this season looks finely, with its splendid rows of shade trees.

Within a few years many persons have left their residences in Broad Street, and have built cottages and villas on the forest heights overlooking the village and the surrounding country.

The Doctor was summoned this morning to a sick woman. This is his first professional call since his return; but now I must be reconciled to his leaving me often, as he has a very large practice.

There are more than half a score of regular practitioners in the place, all of whom are invited to mother's levee. Oh, if my friends from home could be there! I find writing a very poor substitute for talking with you. With what delight shall I read your letters. Isabel and Nelly must write about everything, as they promised. Beloved home, parents and sisters, how my heart longs for one more look, one fond embrace.

    Friday, June 5th.

My services have been put in requisition at the cottage, or rather my advice (don't laugh, Bell!) has been requested with regard to the arrangements for the table, fruits and flowers. Emily says, I know everything, or ought to, as I was educated in France.

I told her, all I knew was heartily at her service; and straightway the lively girl pulled off my bonnet and gloves, and set me to work, making bouquets for the table.

After this, we entered right merrily into the preparations for the evening, while mother was busily engaged with the cook. We had all things arranged to our minds, and had resolved ourselves into a tasting committee of the various luxuries for the entertainment, when Frank came in and took me home with him.

I had been deliberating about my toilet for the occasion, when he presented me an exquisite bouquet of white flowers, together with some beautiful white moss-rose buds for my hair. I fairly clapped my hands with delight, they reminded me so much of home. I could say nothing in reply but "dear Frank!"

CHAPTER III

"If ye court society for pastime, – what happier recreation than a nurseling.

Its winning ways, its prattling tongue, its innocence and mirth." Tupper.

    Saturday, June 6th.

Oh! Mother, if you could sit by me for an hour it would be so delightful, for I have much to tell you, and my pen will not move fast enough. But I will begin my story. I dressed in due time. The girls will be pleased to know that I wore my white lisse crape, with no ornaments but the flowers in my hair, and a small bunch in my bodice. When I descended to the parlor, Frank was awaiting me, and his eyes expressed satisfaction with my toilet.

We repaired to the cottage early, by mother's request. Soon after carriages began to roll up to the door. I was presented first to the clergyman, Mr. Munroe, who has been settled in Crawford but a short time. He is very free and social in manner, dignified and graceful in person; I think he will prove an agreeable friend. Mother says, he loves the work in which he is engaged.

There was also a younger minister present, from an adjoining parish, about whom I must make some farther inquiries. He was quite too devoted in his attentions to my fair sister Emily; and when I asked of her an explanation, a blush was her only reply.

I cannot begin to describe one half the persons who were present, but I will mention a few, who, from different causes, interested me.

A tall portly man, hardly a gentleman, with a self-important air, a very large pattern to his vest, with heavy chains and seals, which he dangled incessantly, addressed me in a patronizing manner. He asked me how I liked "living among Yankees," and said I must come round to his place before I made up my mind about it. He then bowed himself away. Emily said, in a low voice, "that is our nabob, Squire Lee."

Next came an elderly gentleman, who, in figure and conversation, formed a striking contrast to the one who preceded him. This was Mr. Marshall, a distinguished attorney. He was accompanied by his wife, a very handsome lady considerably younger than her husband. They both expressed much kind interest in the young stranger.

Then came a lovely young lady with her brother, children of Squire Lee, the distiller. The young man seemed cast in the same mould as his father. He was dressed in the height of fashion, but without taste, with a flaunting neck tie, a gayly embroidered vest, and full pantaloons. He was rather below the medium height, but of very full habit. His face was flushed, and when he bowed the blood rushed violently to his head, rendering his face red as crimson. But his air was so consequential, and his talk in a style so pompous and imposing, I could scarcely suppress my mirth. This was the more noticeable by the contrast of his whole appearance with his sister, a very modest, amiable looking girl, who evidently feared lest her brother, in his desire to impress me with his dignity, should disgrace both himself and her.

After these, came the Mansfields, the Harrisses, Justice Wilson and family, the Johnsons, Mr. Willard, Dr. Clapp, Mr. and Mrs. Morris Whitney, and a great many whom I cannot remember.

When this procession had passed with a word of salutation from each, with now a bow, and then a smile, Mrs. Marshall introduced to me a lady whose countenance I shall never forget. I should think her near fifty years of age, not handsome, but with a kind expression, full of mildness and benevolence. Frank addressed her very cordially, saying to me, "Miss Proctor is my particular friend." I gave her my hand again, and asked a share in her friendship. She was evidently much pleased, and pressed my hand at parting.

Near the close of the evening, I met Mr. and Mrs. Russell, a very delightful couple. His manner reminded me of Frank's; dignified and rather reserved, yet easy and graceful in conversation. His wife, on the contrary, was full of life and spirits, original and witty.

While we were in the refreshment room, I overheard several persons, talking about a woman lately deceased in the village. She was a French woman, and by her death her child was left without protection. I became quite interested for the poor foundling, and was glad to learn that Miss Proctor was to pass the night, in the hope of being able with mother, to provide for the little orphan.

It was quite late; but Frank stopped at my request to hear more of her history. On Tuesday of this week, the day of our arrival, the French woman called at the public house, saying, in broken English, that she was ill and wished for a bed. The landlady attended her, and soon found it necessary to summon a physician. She grew rapidly worse and died the next evening. She had informed the landlady that the child was not hers, but entrusted to her care by its mother, to be conveyed from France to England. The vessel in which they sailed was wrecked. But they, with a few other passengers and some of the crew, were taken on board an American vessel and brought to New York. Beyond this nothing is known.

I have quite an idea of adopting the foundling if Frank will consent.

    Evening.