But Mrs. Tarbell found this conversation growing quite too ghastly to be listened to with composure, so she turned abruptly toward the sofa. The doctor was now bathing and examining Mrs. Stiles's ankle, and Mrs. Stiles looked not merely the picture but the dramatic materialization of misery.
"How do you feel now, Mrs. Stiles? How do you think she is, doctor?"
These two questions were put in Mrs. Tarbell's sweetest tones.
Mrs. Stiles lay for a moment without answering, but the doctor replied that he was afraid it was a nasty business. "There is a dislocation, and there may be nothing more, except a sprain," he said. "But it will be impossible to tell until the swelling is reduced; and if there is a fracture of the fibula, why, such a complication is apt to be serious."
Mrs. Stiles groaned feebly, and then looked up at Mrs. Tarbell with gratitude. "I never thought to be so much trouble to you," she murmured.
"Do not think of that for a moment," said Mrs. Tarbell. "If I only had my cologne-bottle," she said, half aloud, in an apologetic voice. This was one of the luxuries she had refused herself in her professional toilet; more than this, she did not allow herself to carry a smelling-bottle, though Mr. Juddson had told her it could be used with great effect to disconcert an opposing counsel.
"I am afraid you are suffering very much," she went on.
"Yes, ma'am," said Mrs. Stiles sadly. "If I hadn't only been such a fool as to try to get on that there car while it was a-going."
Mrs. Tarbell started. The doctor rose and laughed.
"You don't mean that," said he.
"Mean what, doctor?"
"That you tried to get on while the car was going. All these gentlemen here say the car started while you were trying to get on, which is a very different thing, you know." The doctor had evidently kept his ears open while attending to the sufferer. Mrs. Tarbell, rather red in the face, kept silent, not knowing exactly what she ought to do.
"I don't know," said Mrs. Stiles feebly. "I don't s'pose I remember much."
"Of course you don't," said the doctor cheerfully. "Bless you, you'll sue the company and have a famous verdict; I wouldn't take ten thousand dollars for your chances if I had them. You observe," he went on confidentially to Mrs. Tarbell, "I am doing my best for the community of interests which, ought to exist among the learned professions. I raise this poor woman's spirits by suggesting to her dreams of enormous damages, and at the same time I promote litigation, to the great advantage of her lawyer. I think that is the true scientific spirit."
"I—I—" began Mrs. Tarbell, in some confusion.
"Beg pardon?" said the doctor. "Well, I must be off. I've done all I can for the poor woman. She ought to send for her own doctor as soon as she gets home. I suppose—will you—?" He looked at Mrs. Tarbell doubtfully, as if wondering whether he ought to take it for granted that she was in charge of the case.
"I will tell her," said Mrs. Tarbell.
"I could tell her myself," said the doctor. "To be sure. Well, if I could only inform her lawyer what I've done for him, he might induce my fair patient to employ me permanently." He smiled at his joke, shook his head waggishly, and turned to look for his hat.
As Mrs. Tarbell looked after him in some perplexity, John, the office-boy, came back to report that the carriage was engaged and at the door; and Mrs. Stiles was presently carried down-stairs again, it being quite impossible for her even to limp.
But before she was lifted up she turned her head and beckoned to Mrs. Tarbell.
"Could I," she said,—"could I have a case against the railway company?"
"Ye-es,—I suppose so," Mrs. Tarbell answered.
"Did they say it was the fault of the conductor that I fell off that car?"
"Of the driver,—yes."
"Well, then, ma'am, would you advise me to bring a case against them?"
"You had better decide for yourself," said Mrs. Tarbell faintly. But then, remembering that it was her duty to advise, she added, "Yes, I think you ought to sue."
"Then you'll take the case, Mrs. Tarbell, won't you, please?" said Mrs. Stiles, closing her eyes again, as if satisfied of the future.
Mrs. Tarbell! There was a general movement of surprise as the lady lawyer's name was pronounced, and the doctor was so much taken aback that heh burst out laughing.
"I'm sure I beg your pardon, Mrs. Tarbell," he cried. "I had no idea in the world—"
"Ah," said Stethson, "I looked at the sign on the door coming in. I knew it was the lady lawyer. My, if my wife could see you, Mrs. Tarbell!"
"And I never knew who I was talking to!" grumbled Mecutchen disgustedly.
A quarter of an hour later, when Mr. Juddson returned to his office,
Mrs. Tarbell was engaged in drawing up a paper which ran as follows:
ANNETTE GORSLEY STILES } Court of Common
vs. } Pleas.
THE BLANK AND DASH } May Term, 1883.
AVENUES PASSENGER } No. –
RAILWAY CO. }
To the Prothonotary of the said Court:
Issue summons in case returnable the first Monday in May, 1883.
TARBELL, pro plff.
It was a precipe for a writ.
"Alexander!" said Mrs. Tarbell, in an expressive voice, regardless of the office-boy.
"Yes?" said Mr. Juddson. The referee had refused to admit some of his testimony.
"Alexander, I have a client," said Mrs. Tarbell.
"Do you tell me so?" replied Mr. Juddson absently, as he redisarranged the papers upon his table. "I hope—Bless me, where is that—? Mrs. Tarbell, have you seen anything of an envelope?—John, what became of the papers in Muggins and Bylow? I gave them to you."
Mrs. Tarbell, deeply mortified, resumed her occupation, and completed the precipe by writing the words, "Tarbell, pro plff."
Mr. Juddson's papers were found for him, under his nose, and he was beginning to say that he was going out to lunch, when the enormity of his conduct made itself apparent to him.
"By George!" he said, stopping short, "you told me you had a client at last, eh, Mrs. Tarbell?"
"Yes," said Mrs. Tarbell coldly.