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Updated: June 20, 2025
Merchison, a young man of about thirty, who held some parish appointment which placed the sick of this district under his charge. Ernest Merchison was a raw-boned, muscular and rather formidable-looking person, of Scotch descent, with strongly-marked features, deep-set eyes, and very long arms.
Merchison arrived in his capacity of parish doctor, and, beyond a curt bow taking no notice of Jane, began his examination, for this was his first visit to the family. Presently his eye fell upon a box of sweets. "What's that?" he asked sharply. "It's a present that Miss Therne here has brought for Tottie," answered the mother. "Then Tottie mustn't eat them till she is well.
My father would not allow it, and I have been told that it won him his first election." Ernest Merchison heard, and for a moment his face became like that of a man in a fit. "The wicked " he began, and stopped himself by biting his lips till the blood came. Recovering his calm with an effort, he turned to Jane and said in a hoarse voice:
When Death is near, whatever they may pretend, men think of little else. Now he was at the foot of the platform, and now in the gaunt, powerful frame I recognised my daughter's suitor, Ernest Merchison, and knew that something dreadful was at hand, what I could not guess.
Nor was it so in the case of Ernest Merchison, who was a Scotchman, with strong religious views which, I understand, under these dreadful circumstances proved comfortable to both of them.
Probably, indeed, I had taken it already, and this very moment the seeds of sickness were at their wizard work within me. Well, even if it was so? I gasped when the thought struck me as Merchison had recognised in the case of Jane, by immediate vaccination the virus could be destroyed, or if not destroyed at least so much modified and weakened as to become almost harmless.
Having half an hour to spare, she determined to visit a few of their occupants. Her second call was on the Smith family. "I am glad to see you now as always, miss," said Mrs. Smith, "but we are in trouble here." "What, is little Tottie ill again?" Jane asked. "No, miss, it isn't Tottie this time, it's the baby. She's got convulsions, or something like it, and I've sent for Dr. Merchison.
Then it was that she ordered the nurse to write a telegram at her dictation. It was to Dr. Merchison, and ran: "Come and see me at once, do not delay as I am dying. Jane." Within half an hour he was at her door. Then she bade the nurse to throw a sheet over her, so that he might not see her features which were horribly disfigured, and to admit him.
Catching her suddenly round the waist he thrust her into a cottage armchair which stood by, and, despite her struggles, began to cut at the sleeve of her dress with the lancet in his hand. But soon he realised that the task was hopeless. "Ernest Merchison," she said, as she escaped from him with blazing eyes and catching breath, "you have done what I will never forgive.
"Go and get the drink," she said, "I will look after her till you come," and she began to walk up and down the room rocking the little sufferer to and fro. Presently she looked up to see Dr. Merchison standing in the doorway. "Jane, you here!" he said. "Yes, Ernest." He stepped towards her, and, before she could turn away or remonstrate, bent down and kissed her on the lips.
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