In his moments of depression Valentine pinned his faith upon Dr.
Doddleson. Without organic disease, he told himself, his darling could
not perish. He looked for Dr. Doddleson's name in the Directory, and took
comfort from the fact of that physician's residence in a fashionable West
End square. He took further comfort from the splendour of the doctor's
equipage, as depicted to him by Mrs. Sheldon; and from the doctor's age
and experience, as copiously described by the same lady.
"There is only one fact that I have ever reproached myself with in
relation to my poor Tom," said Georgy, who, in talking to strangers of
her first husband, was apt to impress them with the idea that she was
talking of a favourite cat; "and that is, the youthfulness of the
doctor Mr. Sheldon employed. Of course I am well aware that Mr. Sheldon
would not have consulted the young man if he had not thought him
clever; but I could lay my head upon my pillow at night with a clearer
conscience if poor Tom's doctor had been an older and more experienced
person. Now, that's what I like about Dr. Doddleson. There's a gravity--a
weight--about a man of that age which inspires one with immediate
confidence. I'm sure the serious manner with which he questioned me about
Lotta's diet, and the aspect of her room, was quite delightful."
In Dr. Doddleson, under Providence, Valentine was fain to put his trust.
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