The Purpose of Miss Shepley

Chapter Fourteen (part I)

"Oh, is it..."

"The women of Farport, anyway," he said. "Although my sister hopes to be a nurse. Daisy, that is."

"Does she...?" I was utterly astonished by this -- and not just because he'd simply offered it up without a torturous interrogation first. Daisy seemed far too bland and biddable for anything so audacious as hopes... That implied interests... Preferences, even.

"Father would rather she marry, of course," he said, ending the sentence in a bloodless chuckle. He swallowed, and then, almost grimly, he added, "But she would excel at it."

"Well, then. She should pursue it."

He nodded slowly. "I think so, too."

We fell into another lull. It would prove to be a barren one.

I drew in a breath, with no clear idea of what words I would use it for. "So... What called you to become a doctor?"

"Oh. Well..." Doctor Brown's eyes flicked away. He blinked a few times, and then they flicked back. "I'm good at it," he said. "It's the only thing I am good at, in truth. And I'm better at it than most."

"Is that all...? Do you not enjoy it?"

"No, I do." Doctor Brown smiled -- it was a quiet thing, but genuine and rather charming. "I like to help people. And it's... Well, it's fascinating, really, though... morbid. Most people don't like to hear about it."

"Well, I am all eagerness to listen..." I leaned toward him. "Tell me something fascinating."

Doctor Brown seemed to look inside himself a moment, and then, suddenly, his hands came alive. It was the most delightful transformation.

"One of my current patients..." he said, poking at the air with one finger. "A captain of the Lord Regent's Watch. He was in an accident... Really, a grisly thing. His horse startled and reared up, and just crushed his skull, and the brains underneath...

"I've done all I can for him... I don't know if it will be enough. And I feel guilty, Miss Shepley. The man suffers, and he may die, but I am... fascinated. It is the strangest thing... The injury was to the left side of his brains, and yet he is unable to move his right hand. His left hand is entirely unaffected."

He looked down at me, his eyes searching mine for answers that were not there. "Why should a blow to the left side of the head cause paralysis in the right hand...?"

I shrugged. "I've no idea."

Doctor Brown shrugged back at me. "Neither have I."

"A coincidence, perhaps...?" I suggested. "Was the man's hand injured?"

"No, that was my first thought, as well. But then I read through the literature, and this sort of thing has been observed before. And sometimes in a dissection, particularly of the elderly, one will observe lesions in the-"

The music started up then, and Doctor Brown broke off, looking round him almost guiltily. "Is it that time already?"

He bowed to me sharply. "I beg your pardon, Miss Shepley. I am engaged for this dance."

I smiled, telling him, "I quite understand," and then I drifted over toward Daisy, who sat with her hands in her lap, cheerfully smiling at no one.

Brief though it was, it proved an unpleasant journey. As I passed behind Doctor Brown and his dance partner -- a willowy Southlander with hair like spun gold -- I overheard her say, "Poor Doctor Brown... I wondered if you would ever escape that beastly girl."

Doctor Brown made some protest too quiet for me to hear, and then our eyes met, and he went pale.

"Ah, allow me to introduce our guest," he said, gesturing toward me. "This is Miss Shepley."