“She must have as little to disturb her as possible, Mr. Ridley.  The case is serious.”

“Where is Dr. Hillhouse?  Why did not he come?” demanded Mr. Ridley.

“He will be here after a while.  It is too early for him,” replied Dr. Angier.

“He must come now.  Go for him at once, doctor.”

“If you say so,” returned Doctor Angier, with some coldness of manner; “but I cannot tell how soon he will be here.  He does not go out until after eight or nine o’clock, and there are two or three pressing cases besides this.”

“I will go,” said Mr. Ridley.  “Don’t think me rude or uncourteous, Dr. Angier.  I am like one distracted.  Stay here until I get back.  I will bring Dr. Hillhouse.”

“Take my carriage—­it is at the door; and say to Dr. Hillhouse from me that I would like him to come immediately,” Dr. Angier replied to this.

Mr. Ridley ran down stairs, and springing into the carriage, ordered the driver to return with all possible speed to the office.  Dr. Hillhouse was in bed, but rose on getting the summons from Dr. Angier and accompanied Mr. Ridley.  He did not feel in a pleasant humor.  The night’s indulgence in wine and other allurements of the table had not left his head clear nor his nerves steady for the morning.  A sense of physical discomfort made him impatient and irritable.  At first all the conditions of this case were not clear to him; but as his thought went back to the incidents of the night, and he remembered not only seeing Mr. Ridley in considerable excitement from drink, but hearing it remarked upon by one or two persons who were familiar with his life at Washington, the truth dawned upon his mind, and he said abruptly, with considerable sternness of manner and in a quick voice: 

“At what time did you get home last night?”

Ridley made no reply.

“Or this morning?  It was nearly midnight when I left, and you were still there, and, I am sorry to say, not in the best condition for meeting a sick wife at home.  If there is anything seriously wrong in this case, the responsibility lies, I am afraid, at your door, sir.”

They were in the carriage, moving rapidly.  Mr. Ridley sat-with his head drawn down and bent a little forward; not answering, Dr. Hillhouse said no more.  On arriving at Mr. Ridley’s residence, he met Dr. Angier, with whom he held a brief conference before seeing his patient.  He found her in no favorable condition.  The fever was not so intense as Dr. Angier had found it on his arrival, but its effect on the brain was more marked.

“Too much time has been lost.”  Dr. Hillhouse spoke aside to his assistant a’s they sat together watching carefully every symptom of their patient.

“I sent for you before ten o’clock last night,” said the nurse, who overheard the remark and wished to screen herself from any blame.

Dr. Hillhouse did not reply.

“I knew there was danger,” pursued the nurse.  “Oh, doctor, if you had only come when I sent for you!  I waited and waited until after midnight.”