Page 13 of Regrets

Mr. Collins rose as they entered the room. “Good morning, Miss de Bourgh, Miss Darcy. I was just commiserating with her ladyship on the unfortunate demise of Dr. Fleming.”

“Demise?” Anne and Georgiana chorused together in disbelief.

“Yes; can you believe it?” Lady Catherine burst out. “I have been inconsolable since I first learnt it this morning! What are we to do now for poor Anne?”

“Ah,” Mr. Collins said, looking quite smug. “Here I may be of service to your ladyship.”

“Whatever can you mean?”

“Why, I happen to know that Dr. Fleming was planning on taking on a partner, and that partner has already taken up residence in Dr. Fleming’s house.”

“What? But he never spoke to me about a partner! It is altogether impossible!” Lady Catherine declared.

“When he was here, he did say something about visiting colleagues; perhaps that is when he took on the partner,” Georgiana said. She was ignored.

Anne ventured, “Do we know anything about the new doctor, Mr. Collins?”

“Very little; only that he is unmarried, young, saddened by the death of Dr. Fleming, but very willing to take on the practice. His name is Addison. I went to visit him as soon as I heard of his arrival, and he was busy reviewing his predecessor’s notes.”

“Very commendable, I am sure,” Lady Catherine said, impatiently. “But he should have presented himself to me immediately upon his arrival! I cannot like this situation, not in the least.”

At that moment, Fenworth announced the arrival of Dr. Addison.

Lady Catherine looked momentarily chagrined, but at once wiped the look off her face. The ladies all rose as the young doctor entered the room.

He bowed, and Mr. Collins performed the introductions.

“I apologise for my delay in coming to you, Lady Catherine,” he said, quite cheerfully. “I felt it necessary to first acquaint myself with your daughter’s situation by reading through my predecessor’s notes on her treatments before presuming to come to you.”

Lady Catherine could think of no immediate reply, so she simply inclined her head.

He continued, “Might I make a quick examination of the patient so that I can assess her current state of health?”

Lady Catherine assented, and so once again, the procession went upstairs: Mrs. Jenkinson, Anne, Georgiana, and the doctor. But this doctor was young and spry, and it was accomplished a good deal more quickly.

Anne lay down upon the bed and the doctor went through all the usual examinations. Finally, he declared, “I see nothing wrong with you that a bit more exercise, air and nutrition would not cure.”

Anne sat up in surprise. “You are not going to bleed me?”

He looked surprised. “Heavens, no! Has that ever done you a bit of good?”

“No, for I am always pale and tired when it is over.”

“Of course you are; blood belongs inside the body, not outside,” the doctor said firmly.

Georgiana chuckled at that; when the doctor looked over at her, she flushed and said. “I apologise; I was just thinking of something our cousin Richard Fitzwilliam once said.”

Anne said, “What did he say? I hardly ever see him, you know.”

“He is a Colonel in the Army,” Georgiana explained to the doctor. “He once said that he had seen a good many men die from losing too much blood, but he had never seen anyone die from losing too little.”

Dr. Addison burst out laughing. “Good man!” he said. “My feelings precisely.”

“My mother will not be happy if there is nothing done for me, though,” Anne said, softly. “She expects bleeding or medicine or something.”

“Ah, I suspected as much, and I have just the thing,” the doctor said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of little brown pellets. “You are to take one of these with every meal; three times a day, mind you, with plenty of food!”

“What is it?” Mrs. Jenkinson leaned forward, peering through her spectacles at the bottle.