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Updated: May 14, 2025
Trevennack " he paused with a start and checked himself. "Why, how do you know my name?" the astonished mother cried, drawing back with a little shudder of half superstitious alarm at such surprising prescience. Dr. Yate-Westbury made a clean breast of it. "Well, to tell the truth," he said, "Mr.
Yate-Westbury's, the well-known specialist on mental diseases. She sent up no card and gave no name. On the contrary, she kept her veil down and it was a very thick one. But Dr. Yate-Westbury made no comment on this reticence; it was a familiar occurrence with him people are often ashamed to have it known they consult a mad-doctor. "I want to ask you about my husband's case," Mrs.
Am I bound to tell him she's a madman's child? Is there any chance of its affecting her? Is the taint hereditary?" She spoke with deep earnestness. She rushed out with it without reserve. Yate-Westbury gazed at her compassionately. He was a kind- hearted man. "No; certainly not," he answered, with emphasis. "Not the very slightest reason in any way to fear it.
Trevennack explained that he never had any. Except to herself, and that but seldom, he never alluded to the subject in any way. Yate-Westbury bit his lip. "He must have great self-control," he answered, less confidently. "In a case like that, I'm bound to admit, my prognosis for the final result would be most unfavorable.
She could mention it all now with comparatively little emotion; great sorrows since had half obliterated that first and greatest one. But she laid stress upon the point that her husband had been struck, too, and was very gravely hurt so gravely, indeed, that it was weeks before he recovered physically. "On what part of the head?" Yate-Westbury asked, with quick medical insight. And Mrs.
Michael, till the fancy took full hold upon him; and now, though he knows in a sort of a way he's mad, he believes quite firmly he's St. Michael the Archangel." Yate-Westbury nodded once more. "Precisely the development I should expect to occur," he said, "after such an accident." Mrs. Trevennack almost bounded from her seat in her relief.
Its no more likely to be inherited than a broken leg or an amputated arm is." Mrs. Trevennack burst into a flood of joyous tears. "Then all I have to do," she sobbed out, "is to keep him from an outbreak until after my daughter's married." Dr. Yate-Westbury nodded. "That's all you have to do," he answered, sympathetically. "And I'm sure Mrs.
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