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Updated: May 7, 2025
The door was opened by a tall and strikingly handsome old woman, whose black eyes still kept their keen light under her white hair, and whose dress showed none of the incongruity which was offensive in the door-bell: it was in the perfection of an antiquated taste, which, however, came just short of characterizing it with gentle womanliness. "Is Dr. Mulbridge at home?" asked Grace.
"I can appreciate your difficulty, and pity any liberal-minded person who is placed as you are, and disapproves of such wretched bigotry." "I am obliged to tell you," said Dr. Mulbridge, "that I don't disapprove of it." "I am detaining you," said Grace. "I beg your pardon. I was curious to know how far superstition and persecution can go in our day."
Mulbridge my card, if you please," said Grace, before she turned to go into this room; and the other took it, and left her to find a chair for herself.
He looked into her eyes with even more seriousness than he spoke. "Has she friends here?" he asked. "No; her husband is in Cheyenne, out on the plains." "He ought to know," said Dr. Mulbridge. "A great deal will depend upon her nursing Miss ah Dr. Breen." "You need n't call me Dr. Breen," said Grace. "At present, I am Mrs. Maynard's nurse."
"But I sent and got it again, to refresh my impressions of Rochester. We all think Dr. Mulbridge is just like him. Rochester is my ideal character, a perfect conception of a man: so abrupt, so rough, so savage. Oh, I like those men! Don't you?" she fluted. "Mrs. Maynard sees the resemblance, as well as the rest of us. But I know! You don't approve of them.
Mulbridge. "But you can't go on at this rate. I shall want your help by and by, and Mrs. Maynard doesn't need you now. Don't go back to her." "But if she should get worse while I am away" "You think your staying and feeling bad would make her better? Don't go back," he repeated; and he went out to his ugly rawboned horse, and, mounting his shabby wagon, rattled away.
"I thought you did n't like self-willed women," said his mother impassively. "She knows when to give up," he answered, with unrelaxed scrutiny. His mother did not lift her eyes, yet. "How long shall you have to visit over there?" "I've made my last professional visit." "Where are you going this morning?" "To Jocelyn's." Mrs. Mulbridge now looked up, and met her son's eye.
Of course," she explained, "you don't know that all those women have been saying that I ought to call in Dr. Mulbridge. It's one of those things," she added bitterly, "that make it so pleasant for a woman to try to help women." He made a little murmur of condolence, and she realized that she had thrown herself on his sympathy, when she thought she had been merely thinking aloud.
Mulbridge did come she should give him a piece of her mind; and she received him with anxious submissiveness, and hung upon all his looks and words with quaking and with an inclination to attribute her unfavorable symptoms to the treatment of her former physician. She did not spare him certain apologies for the disorderly appearance of her person and her room.
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