Bird by Rita Murphy Read Free Book Online Page B

hand without her consent.
    Dr. Mead appeared to be an excellent physician, the kind of man who would sit by the bedside of a sick patient long into the night without complaint, but in Wysteria’s presence, I could not help feeling that he was merely going through the motions of doctoring and wished desperately to be somewhere else.
    I stared at the two of them, wondering if they had ever spoken to one another. They lived in the same town, so they must have met, but Wysteria called no one friend, and why should the doctor be any exception?
    Dr. Mead removed his fingers from Wysteria’s wrist and regarded me. “I do not have to tell you that your mistress’s condition is grave. Is there a relative who can be summoned?” he asked.
    “It is just Wysteria and I, sir, as I have no relations that I know of.” The doctor’s massive brows rose as he turned his full attention to me, inspecting me from head to foot.
    “You are indeed as small as they say.”
    I nodded.
    “Perhaps you will still grow.”
    “It is my hope, sir.”
    “Even if you were larger than average for your age and sturdy as an ox, I would not leave a girl to this work.” The doctor rose and deposited his stethoscope in his bag. “I would send my nurse, but she will not come. No one will come out here.” He paused, as if resigned to the words that followed. “Therefore, I will come myself each day until Mrs. Barrows is well enough to be taken to St. Elias’s. Until that time and until I return, you must stay at her side. Hold a cold cloth to her head and rub her feet vigorously.” He pulled back the blanket at the end of the bed, exposing Wysteria’s stockinged feet. “Like this.” He took one foot between his massive hands and rubbed it roughly. “We must draw the fever down from her head. Do you understand?”
    I nodded.
    “Let’s see you try, then.”
    I walked to the edge of the bed and gingerly took Wysteria’s thin foot from his hands.
    “Don’t be afraid of it, girl,” he barked. I held it more firmly. It was bony like her hand, bony and cold. “Feel how cold it is?”
    “Yes, sir. Like ice.”
    “You have your work cut out for you. Rub both feet until they are hot in your hands. Keep at it, and when you must stop to rest, make yourself useful by giving the poor woman something to drink. Make sure she drinks.”
    If Wysteria had been of sound mind, she would have dismissed the doctor for his impertinence, reminding him that she was no longer a poor woman and that he need not waste his pity upon her. But she was not up to rebuke and was so terribly frail that I was afraid to let the doctor leave me alone with her.
    “Must you depart so soon, Dr. Mead?”
    The doctor turned to me and his manner softened. “I do not envy you your place in this household,” he said. “The heir, is that what they call you?”
    “Yes, sir. But I am no heir.”
    “You are wise in not coveting the title, for no good has ever come from trying to claim this dwelling. Yet may I say that, if circumstances were otherwise, you would make a noble heir? You must be commended for your bravery, if nothing else.”
    “Thank you.”
    “Keep your courage, young lady. Do not let doubts creep in.” He snapped his bag shut and looked warily about the room. “Though I know it is the nature of this house to breed doubt.” He picked up his coat and hat and searched in vain for his gloves. “Are there no lights in this dreary abode?”
    I took a match and lit the candle on the nightstand and one in the window.
    “Good. And perhaps you can throw another log on the fire. The dankness alone in this place would drain the life out of a soul.”
    “Yes, sir.” Dr. Mead had arrived before sunset, and as the house had grown darker, he had become increasingly anxious.
    “I’ll be off, then.” I lit another candle and handed it to him as we walked to the foyer.
    “Those beasts—will they let me pass?” he said, putting on his hat.
    “Yes, sir. I will keep them