Edith Wharton - SSC 09 Read online

“Well, Mrs. Welwood brought the diagnosis back to me directly afterward.”

  “You think it was the very same day?” (Dorrance wondered to himself why he continued to insist on this particular point.)

  The doctor took another stolen glance at his watch. “I’m sure it was. I remember now that it was my consultation day, and that she caught me at two o’clock, before I saw my first patient. We had a good laugh over the scare you’d had.”

  “I see,” said Dorrance.

  “Your wife had one of the sweetest laughs I ever heard,” continued the doctor, with an expression of melancholy reminiscence.

  There was a silence, and Dorrance was conscious that his vistor was looking at him with growing perplexity. He too gave a slight laugh. “I thought perhaps it was the day after,” he mumbled vaguely. “Anyhow, you did give me a good scare.”

  “Yes,” said the doctor. “But it didn’t last long, did it? I asked your wife to make my peace with you. You know such things will happen to hurried doctors. I hope she persuaded you to forgive me?”

  “Oh, yes,” said Dorrance, as he followed the doctor to the door to let him out.

  “Well, now about that sleeping—” the doctor checked himself on the threshold to ask.

  “Sleeping?” Dorrance stared. “Oh, I shall sleep all right tonight,” he said with sudden decision, as he closed the door on his visitor.

  (Ladies’ Home Journal 47, November 1930)