CHAPTER XIV

A STRUGGLE FOR LIFE

A LONG straggling street composed of cottages with projecting upper stories; irregularly paved with cobbles; and terminating with an old, grey, squaretowered church that stood amongst the lichen-covered, time-worn tombstones-this was the next scene of my labours, and a welcome contrast to the freshlybuilt red-brick or white-stone villa residences of which Milchester and its suburbs were chiefly composed.

The village had certain historical associations, whilst the Church claimed to have possessed for one of its vicars a divine who was subsequently martyred for his unwavering adherence to the Protestant faith; so that in any case Cornford would have been interesting merely from the air of attractive antiquity it possessed. But the surrounding country was beautiful, undulating in gentle, well-wooded slopes, and fragrant with the fresh, health-giving seabreezes blowing across a couple of miles of pastureland. And to this delightful old-time village I had come to take charge of a dipsomaniac-a victim to

what is, perhaps, one of the most maddening and degrading evils known in our long category of human frailties.

The patient, Mrs. Carruthers, was a woman of forty-five or fifty years of age, and belonged to that social status which most frequently indulges in the fatal vice-the prosperous middle-class. As is so often the case, she had been drinking secretly long before the habit had been even suspected by her husband; but it had now become such a necessity that she observed comparatively very little concealment in the matter. Before her marriage she had been an actress of no little reputation, and though for many years she had abandoned the profession, in moments of supreme excitement or agitation the old habit betrayed itself, and she would so phrase or intonate her sentences that they would have been effective from behind the footlights.

"A curse to her husband and a curse to her children," the Matron had said when she was giving me particulars of the case. "And it will never be cured, my dear, because she won't try to help herself. In these cases they never will-and at any time there's always more hope of a man reforming than of a woman. I suppose we are too obstinate to acknowledge that there can possibly be any room for improvement."

When I reached Limes Cottage-which, for a wonder, fully deserved its name-I found, somewhat to my surprise, that Mrs. Carruthers was apparently quite sensible and collected. This however, was

merely due to a stupendous effort of will; for her husband, who had run down to see her that morning, was returning to London by the evening train, and she was evidently determined that, despite the doctor's diagnosis and the presence of a trained nurse, he should believe nothing unusual was the matter. And although she had certainly suffered a serious fall recently (for her head was surgically strapped, and one eye, I saw, was fearfully blackened), she endeavoured to explain away both these unwelcome witnesses of her weakness by stating she had knocked her head against a door. With this explanation, notwithstanding its manifest absurdity, Mr. Carruthers seemed content-doubtless, relieved, poor man, at being able to ignore the true cause of the injuries as much as possible.

Until her husband left to catch the seven o'clock train, she managed to keep up; but as soon as he was gone she was obliged to lie down upon the couch, insisting the while that there was nothing the matter with her but weakness, and seeming annoyed that the Doctor should have sent for me at all. And during the evening that followed she spoke so clearly and expressed herself so collectedly that I was almost inclined to wonder whether, after all, the case were quite so serious as the Doctor had reported to the Matron.

That night I slept in a small bed in Mrs. Carruthers' room. I believe I am a tolerably light sleeper, and my training had certainly accustomed me to be roused by almost the slightest movement, and yet I

am sure Mrs. Carruthers by some means procured more stimulants during the night, for in the morning she was extremely tremulous and looked terribly ill. Her eyes were strangely wild, gleaming, as it were, with some inner lurid light, and her hands shook and nervously twitched, although she endeavoured to keep them concealed beneath the bedclothes.

Notwithstanding this, about five o'clock in the afternoon she insisted upon getting up, and I decided that if she were really equal to the exertion it would be the best thing for her to do. But I kept a sharp watch upon the servant-the only creature in the house to see that she did not obtain any further stimulants, for by this time I recognised that the Doctor's conception of the case had not been wrong. It soon became plain I had not only to deal with a confirmed dipsomaniac, but with one who possesed more than the usual amount of artifice and cunning, and would exercise all her ingenuity to procure the spirits which, in her condition, acted as actual poison.

Therefore, for almost three hours after she was up and dressed I never left her side, although she employed every pretext for being alone. At the end of this time I was obliged to absent myself for a few moments, and when I returned it was to find that what I had so much dreaded had come to pass. How or where in that incredibly short period, she had obtained the brandy it is impossible to say, but she had certainly consumed sufficient to take her over the borderland of comparative sobriety to the fearful

world that is peopled with strange, loathsome, crawling objects.

"Will you drive those cats from the garden before you sit down?" she presently asked, quite naturally. Instinctively I looked out of the window, but there nothing to be seen.

"There among the daffodils-just behind the rose-bush," she said. And as I had paused irresolutely, she added

"I suppose I must do it myself,"—and was moving off with this object in view when she encountered another phantom quadruped on the doorstep.

"Drive them out, Nurse! I won't have them in my house!" she said, irritably. There's another behind that chair-and there's one coming in the gate again!"

I made a pretence of frightening away the cats, and pulled myself together for what I knew was coming.

"Don't you think you would be better in bed? I suggested for in this case coercion would have been worse than useless. To my surprise, Mrs. Carruthers acquiesced, and suffered me to lead her away and help her to undress. When she was safely and comfortable tucked-up between the sheets, I felt more at ease, for it would now be more difficult to elude my vigilance; and I wanted, if it were possible, to persuade rather than compel, and to win her confidence, poor soul, before asserting my professional authority.

The first thing to be done was to keep her head