A short stout man Dr. Whitaker, with a bald head, a red face, and a small gray whisker; his manner was bustling and self-satisfied, he was always dressed in solemn black, and invariably wore creaking boots. Many years before, when, as a young man, he first set up for himself in practice, having emancipated himself from his father--a worthy man, who kept a chemist's shop, from which he would not retire, and of whom in consequence his son was horribly ashamed--Dr. Whitaker's manner had been very different. He had crept in and out of the smallest and most modest houses, taking care to make no noise and to give no offence; he had listened for hours to the monotonous complaints of old women in little lodgings for the sake of the five shillings a visit which he was enabled to charge them, and he had been humble, deferential, and presumably grateful to many upon whom he had long since ceased to look with anything like a sign of recognition. A man of the world Dr. Whitaker, whose success in life was assured.
With persons of rank, indeed, his manner remained very much the same as it had been in bygone days to persons in lodgings, and he accordingly entered the room as softly as the creaking boots would permit him, and marched straight up to Lady Forestfield with extended hand and grave bow.
'Even under these sad circumstances,' he said, 'I cannot omit the expression of my great pleasure at seeing you once more, Lady Forestfield, under this roof; which I venture to think, had you been well advised, you would never have quitted--'
'Pray give me news of Lord Forestfield,' said May, hurriedly interrupting him; 'you have seen him just now--is there any change in his condition?'
'No change whatever,' said Dr. Whitaker. 'His lordship is certainly not better, and I do not think he is worse; but there can be no denying that he is in a very critical state, as I ventured to inform your ladyship through the medium of Sir Nugent Uffington.'
'Do you think then, Dr. Whitaker,' said May in low earnest voice, 'that there is hope of his recovery?'
'I do not say that,' replied the doctor; 'your ladyship is aware of the old proverb which says that there must be hope while there is life; and though Lord Forestfield is in extreme danger, with human skill and attention, under Divine Providence' (Whitaker always spoke of this last as a kind of copartnership) 'we may pull him through. Your ladyship, I understand, intends to remain in the house, and in case there should be any sudden change I will give orders to the nurse, that you are warned in time.'