Free House of Masques by Fortune Kent Page A

had inflammation of the lungs,” Mrs. Lewis said. “We sliced an onion in two and let sugar seep in, and then squeezed the juice for him to drink.”
    â€œAn old-fashioned remedy,” the doctor said, “which will make the patient no worse. I advise letting Miss Stuart sit for a half hour with her feet and legs in warm water, and have her drink some warm sweating teas with bloodroot or sage added. Then, place a blanket about her shoulders, after removing her clothes, and boil a quantity of bitter herbs in a large pot or kettle. The blanket confines the steam rising from the herbs and hot water and allows it to come in contact with the body as high as the neck. Continue this treatment for another half hour, occasionally throwing into the vessel a hot brick or rock to raise the steam.”
    â€œShould we use a mustard plaster?” Mrs. Lewis wanted to know.
    â€œOnly if she shows no improvement. If you do, place the compress on her chest for as long as the young lady can bear it. And keep her warm with hot bricks about the body while she’s in bed, or put boiled corn in her ears.”
    The doctor snapped his bag shut. “This is a mild case,” he said. “Miss Stuart, if she feels well enough, can get out of bed tomorrow. But in no case is she to travel during the next week.”
    Kathleen sighed with relief. The doctor was prescribing exactly what Clarissa had hoped. Could Edward Allen have persuaded him? If so, how had he accomplished it?
    â€œQuite an inconvenience to me, my coming here,” the doctor said to Mrs. Lewis. “In these cases I charge double my usual fee. That will be one dollar,” he added in a low, apologetic voice. Mrs. Lewis brought forth a purse and handed him a bill.
    â€œAnd,” the doctor said from the doorway, “if either of you charming ladies should chance upon the March 1869 issue of the Medical-Surgical Journal , pages thirty-eight through forty-five, you might be interested in perusing my article on the salubrious effects of railroad travel.”
    â€œRailroad travel?” they asked almost in unison.
    â€œYes. I point out that the velocity with which a train moves through the air is very refreshing where the run is for some miles. The vibratory, or rather oscillatory motion communicated to the human frame is very different from the swinging and jolting motions of the stagecoach, and is productive of more salutary effects. It equalizes the circulation, promotes digestion, tranquilizes the nerves, and often causes sound sleep during the succeeding night. In my humble opinion, the railroad bids fair to be a powerful remedial agent for many ailments to which metropolitan inhabitants are subject.”
    Doctor Gunn was standing by the door with the open-mouthed Mrs. Lewis to one side. Did Kathleen see him wink at her? No, she must be mistaken. He held his hat aloft and bowed and was gone.
    â€œMy,” Mrs. Lewis said, “he seems a very learned gentleman. I’ll make sure his advice is followed.”
    â€œHe reminds me of someone,” Kathleen said. “A picture in a book I once read, I think. An author, not a doctor, though. Someone else. I can’t remember.”
    Mrs. Lewis held the curtain aside and again Kathleen could see the giant elm. “Ah, poor Mr. Charles,” Mrs. Lewis said, shaking her head. “Walking across the lawn, with your aunt, hands behind his back, head down, like a great sadness is upon him. If only I could help. If only he’d let me.”
    Mrs. Lewis’s curls were like those of a young girl, Kathleen thought, yet when she turned from the window the harsh light of midday exposed the folds and wrinkles in her neck and the web of lines around her eyes. The contrast between the hair and the face made her seem even older than she was.
    â€œI’m sorry,” Kathleen said, not sure whether she referred to the Captain or to Mrs. Lewis herself.
    â€œSorry? Being sorry does