Advancing instantly to the chair of Wellmere, the surgeon
instinctively laid hold of his arm, and exclaimed,--
"Bless me!--a quick and irregular pulse--flushed cheek and fiery
eye--strong febrile symptoms, and such as must be attended to." While
speaking, the doctor, who was much addicted to practicing in a summary
way,--a weakness of most medical men in military practice,--had already
produced his lancet, and was making certain other indications of his
intentions to proceed at once to business. But Colonel Wellmere,
recovering from the confusion of the surprise, arose from his seat
haughtily, and said,--
"Sir, it is the warmth of the room that lends me the color, and I am
already too much indebted to your skill to give you any further trouble.
Miss Wharton knows that I am quite well, and I do assure you that I
never felt better or happier in my life."
There was a peculiar emphasis on the latter part of this speech, that,
however it might gratify the feelings of Sarah, brought the color to her
cheeks again; and Sitgreaves, as his eye followed the direction of those
of his patient, did not fail to observe it.
"Your arm, if you please, madam," said the surgeon, advancing with a
bow. "Anxiety and watching have done their work on your delicate frame,
and there are symptoms about you that must not be neglected.
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