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If it is any satisfaction to you to bring down a physician, bring one; bring half a dozen, if you please. But, for the last time, I most emphatically assure you that anything that tends to alarm Charlotte is the one thing of all others most sure to hinder her recovery." "I know that. She shall not be frightened; but she shall have a better adviser than Dr. Doddleson.
Doddleson in the garden at Harold's Hill and the present moment. To Valentine it seemed still more wonderful. What a bridgeless gulf between yesterday morning and to-night! All his knowledge of this man Sheldon, all the horror involved in Tom Halliday's death, had come upon him in that brief span. "I should like to see Dr. Doddleson's prescriptions," said Dr. Jedd, with grave politeness. Mr.
Doddleson had no rank; but he was the pet physician of fashionable dowagers suffering from chronic laziness or periodical attacks of ill-humour. For the spleen or the vapours no one was a better adviser than Dr. Doddleson.
Look, do look, at that fisherman's cottage, with the nets hanging out to dry in the sunshine; just like a picture of Hook's!" "What's the use of going on about fishermen's cottages, Lotta?" Mrs. Sheldon demanded, peevishly. "Fishermen's cottages won't provide us with butcher's meat. Where are we to get your little bit of roast mutton? Dr. Doddleson laid such a stress upon the roast mutton."
Sheldon much comforted by his assurance that her daughter is better," said the stockbroker. "No, no!" exclaimed Dr. Doddleson; "no, no! there my good friend Mr. Sheldon somewhat misrepresents me. I said that our patient was not obviously worse. I did not say that our patient was better. There is a dilatation of the pupil of the eye which I don't quite understand." "Mental excitement," said Mr.
I'm sure the serious manner with which he questioned me about Lotta's diet, and the aspect of her room, was quite delightful." In Dr. Doddleson, under Providence, Valentine was fain to put his trust.
He wore mourning-rings left him by patients who never had anything particular the matter with them, and who, dying of sheer old age, or sheer over-eating, declared with their final gasp that Dr. Doddleson had been the guardian angel of their frail lives during the last twenty years. This was the man who, of all the medical profession resident in London, Mr.
Jedd, looking at one prescription. "Quinine, yes; aqua pura," he murmured, looking at another. He threw them aside with a half-contemptuous gesture, and then took up a pen and began to write. "My mode of treatment will be quite different from that adopted by Dr. Doddleson," he said; "but I apprehend no difficulty in bringing that gentleman round to my view of the case when we meet."
He could not imagine that there are circumstances under which such abject creatures will renounce their daily bread, and die of hunger, rather than accept the means of life from one hateful hand. "If you want to know anything about Miss Halliday's illness," he said in his hardest voice, and with his hardest look, "you had better apply to Dr. Doddleson, the physician who has prescribed for her.
And then came hurried dreams, in which Dr. Doddleson was knocking at the farmhouse door, with the printer of the Cheapside.
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