Poor Miss Finch

by Wilkie Collins

  The clock chimed the quarter past three. Lucilla, wearying, for thehundredth time of waiting in her own room, put her head in at the door,and still repeated the never-changing question--"No signs of them yet?"

  "None, my love."

  "Oh, how much longer will they keep us waiting!"

  "Patience, Lucilla--patience!"

  She disappeared again, with a weary sigh. Five minutes more passed; andold Zillah peeped into the room next.

  "Here they are, ma'am, in a chaise at the gate!"

  I shook out the skirts of my green silk, I cast a last inspiriting glanceat the Mayonnaise. Nugent's cheerful voice reached me from the garden,conducting the strangers. "This way, gentlemen--follow me." A pause.Steps outside. The door opened. Nugent brought them in.

  Herr Grosse, from America. Mr. Sebright of London.

  The German gave a little start when my name was mentioned. The Englishmanremained perfectly unaffected by it. Herr Grosse had heard of my gloriousPratolungo. Mr. Sebright was barbarously ignorant of his existence. Ishall describe Herr Grosse first, and shall take the greatest pains withhim.

  A squat, broad, sturdy body, waddling on a pair of short bandy legs;slovenly, shabby, unbrushed clothes; a big square bilious-yellow face,surmounted by a mop of thick iron-grey hair; dark beetle-brows; a pair ofstaring, fierce, black, goggle eyes, with huge circular spectaclesstanding up like fortifications in front of them; a shaggy beard andmustache of mixed black, white, and grey; a prodigious cameo ring on theforefinger of one hairy hand; the other hand always in and out of a deepsilver snuff-box like a small tea-caddy; a rough rasping voice; adiabolically humourous smile; a curtly confident way of speaking;resolution, independence, power, expressed all over him from head tofoot--there is the portrait of the man who held in his hands (if Nugentwas to be trusted) the restoration of Lucilla's sight!

  The English oculist was as unlike his German colleague as it is possiblefor one human being to be to another.

  Mr. Sebright was slim and spare, and scrupulously (painfully) clean andneat. His smooth light hair was carefully parted; his well-shaved faceexhibited two little crisp morsels of whisker about two inches long, andno hair more. His decent black clothes were perfectly made; he wore noornaments, not even a watch-chain; he moved deliberately, he spokegravely and quietly; disciplined attention looked coldly at you out ofhis light grey eyes; and said, Here I am if you want me, in everymovement of his thin finely-cut lips. A thoroughly capable man, beyondall doubt--but defend me from accidentally sitting next to him at dinner,or traveling with him for my only companion on a long journey!

  I received these distinguished persons with my best grace. Herr Grossecomplimented me in return on my illustrious name, and shook hands. Mr.Sebright said it was a beautiful day, and bowed. The German, the momenthe was at liberty to look about him, looked at the luncheon-table. TheEnglishman looked out of window.

  "Will you take some refreshment, gentlemen?"

  Herr Grosse nodded his shock head in high approval. His wild eyes glaredgreedily at the Mayonnaise through his prodigious spectacles. "Aha! Ilike that," said the illustrious surgeon, pointing at the dish with hisringed forefinger. "You know how to make him--you make him with creams.Is he chickens or lobsters? I like lobsters best, but chickens is goottoo. The garnish is lofely--anchovy, olive, beetroots; brown, green, red,on a fat white sauce! This I call a heavenly dish. He is nice-cool in twodifferent ways; nice-cool, to the eye, nice-cool to the taste! Soh! wewill break into his inside. Madame Pratolungo, you shall begin. Here goesfor the liver-wings!"

  In this extraordinary English--turning words in the singular into wordsin the plural, and banishing from the British vocabulary the copulativeconjunction "and"--Herr Grosse announced his readiness to sit down tolunch. He was politely recalled from the Mayonnaise to the patient by hisdiscreet English colleague.

  "I beg your pardon," said Mr. Sebright. "Would it not be advisable to seethe young lady, before we do anything else? I am obliged to return toLondon by the next train."

  Herr Grosse-with a fork in one hand and a spoon in the other, and anapkin tied round his neck--stared piteously; shook his shock head; andturned his back on the Mayonnaise, with a heavy heart at parting.

  "Goot. We shall do our works first: then eat our lunches afterwards.Where is the patients? Come-begin-begin!" He removed the napkin, blew asigh (there is no other way of expressing it)--and plunged his finger andthumb into his tea-caddy snuff-box. "Where is the patients?" he repeatedirritably. "Why is she not close-handy in here?"

  "She is waiting in the next room," I said. "I will bring her in directly.You will make allowances for her, gentlemen, I am sure, if you find her alittle nervous?" I added, looking at both the oculists. Silent Mr.Sebright bowed. Herr Grosse grinned diabolically, and said, "Make yourmind easy, my goot creature. I am not such a brutes as I look!"

  "Where is Oscar?" asked Nugent, as I passed him on my way to Lucilla'sroom.

  "After altering his mind a dozen times at least," I replied, "he hasdecided on not being present at the examination."

  I had barely said the words before the door opened, and Oscar entered theroom. He had altered his mind for the thirteenth time--and here he was asthe result of it!

  Herr Grosse burst out with an exclamation in his own language, at thesight of Oscar's face. "Ach, Gott!" he exclaimed, "he has been takingNitrates of Silvers. His complexions is spoilt. Poor boys! poor boys!" Heshook his shaggy head--turned--and spat compassionately into a corner ofthe room. Oscar looked offended; Mr. Sebright looked disgusted; Nugentthoroughly enjoyed it. I left the room and closed the door behind me.

  I had not taken two steps in the corridor when I heard the door openedagain. Looking back directly, I found myself, to my amazement, face toface with Herr Grosse--staring ferociously at me through his spectacles,and offering me his arm!

  "Hosh!" said the famous oculist in a heavy whisper. "Say nothing tonobody. I am come to help you."

  "To help me?" I repeated.

  Herr Grosse nodded vehemently--so vehemently that his prodigiousspectacles hopped up and down on his nose.

  "What did you tell me just now?" he asked. "You told me the patient wasnervous. Goot! I am come to go with you to the patients, and help you tofetch her. Soh! soh! I am not such a brutes as I look. Come-begin-begin!Where is she?"

  I hesitated for a moment about introducing this remarkable ambassadorinto Lucilla's bedroom. One look at him decided me. After all, he was adoctor,--and such an ugly one! I took his arm.

  We went together into Lucilla's room. She started up from the sofa onwhich she was reclining when she heard the strange footsteps entering,side by side with mine.

  "Who is it?" she cried.

  "It is me, my dears," said Herr Grosse. "Ach, Gott! what a pretty girls!Here is jost the complexions I like-nice-fair! nice-fair! I am come tosee what I can do, my pretty Miss, for this eyes of yours. If I can letthe light in on you--hey! you will lofe me, won't you? You will kees evenan ugly Germans like me. Soh! Come under my arm. We will go back into theodder rooms. There is anodder one waiting to let the light in too--Mr.Sebrights. Two surgeon-optic to one pretty Miss--English surgeon-optic;German surgeon-optic--hey! between us we shall cure this nice girls.Madame Pratolungo, here is my odder arms at your service. Hey! what? Youlook at my coatsleeve. He is shabby-greasy--I am ashamed of him. Nomatter. You have got Mr. Sebrights to look at in the odder rooms. He isspick-span, beautiful-new. Come! Forwards! Marsch!"

  Nugent, waiting in the corridor, threw the door open for us. "Isn't hedelightful?" Nugent whispered behind me, pointing to his friend. Escortedby Herr Grosse, we made a magnificent entry into the room. Our Germandoctor had done Lucilla good already. The examination was relieved of allits embarrassments and its terrors at the outset. Herr Grosse had madeher laugh--Herr Grosse had set her completely at her ease.

  Mr. Sebright and Oscar were talking together in a perfectly friendly waywhen we returned to the sitting-room. The reserved Englishman appeared tohave his attract
ion for the shy Oscar. Even Mr. Sebright was struck byLucilla; his cold face lit up with interest when he was presented to her.He placed a chair for her in front of the window. There was a warmth inhis tone which I had not heard yet, when he begged her to be seated inthat place. She took the chair. Mr. Sebright thereupon drew back, andbowed to Herr Grosse, with a courteous wave of his hand towards Lucillawhich signified, "You first!"

  Herr Grosse met this advance with a counter-wave of the hand, and avehement shake of his shock-head, which signified, "I couldn't think ofsuch a thing!"

  "Pardon me," entreated Mr. Sebright. "As my senior, as a visitor toEngland, as a master in our art."

  Herr Grosse responded by regaling himself with three pinches of snuff inrapid succession--a pinch as senior, a pinch as visitor to England, apinch as master in the art. An awful pause followed. Neither of thesurgeons would take precedence of the other. Nugent interfered.

  "Miss Finch is waiting," he said. "Come, Grosse, you were first presentedto her. You examine her first."

  Herr Grosse took Nugent's ear between his finger and thumb, and gave it agood-humoured pinch. "You clever boys!" he said. "You have the right wordalways at the tips of your tongue." He waddled to Lucilla's chair; andstopped short with a scandalized look. Oscar was bending over her, andwhispering to her with her hand in his. "Hey! what?" cried Herr Grosse."Is this a third surgeon-optic? What, sir! you treat young Miss's eyes bytaking hold of young Miss's hand? You are a Quack. Get out!" Oscarwithdrew--not very graciously. Herr Grosse took a chair in front ofLucilla, and removed his spectacles. As a short-sighted man, he hadnecessarily excellent eyes for all objects which were sufficiently nearto him. He bent forward, with his face close to Lucilla's, and parted hereyelids alternately with his finger and thumb; peering attentively, firstinto one eye, then into the other.

  It was a moment of breathless interest. Who could say what an influenceon her future life might be exercised by this quaint kindly uncouthlittle foreign man? How anxiously we watched those shaggy eyebrows, thosepiercing goggle eyes! And, oh, heavens, how disappointed we were at thefirst result! Lucilla suddenly gave a little irrepressible shudder ofdisgust. Herr Grosse drew back from her, and glared at her benignantlywith his diabolical smile.

  "Aha!" he said. "I see what it is. I snuff, I smoke, I reek of tobaccos.The pretty Miss smells me. She says in her inmost heart--Ach Gott, how hestink!"

  Lucilla burst into a fit of laughter. Herr Grosse, unaffectedly amused onhis side, grinned with delight, and snatched her handkerchief out of herapron-pocket. "Gif me scents," said this excellent German. "I shall stopup her nose with her handkerchiefs. So she will not smell mytobacco-stinks--all will be nice-right again--we shall go on." I gave himsome lavender-water from a scent-bottle on the table. He gravely drenchedthe handkerchief with it, and popped it suddenly on Lucilla's nose. "Holdhim there, Miss. You cannot for the life of you smell Grosse now. Goot!We may go on again."

  He took a magnifying glass out of his waistcoat pocket, and waited tillLucilla had fairly exhausted herself with laughing. Then theexamination--so cruelly grotesque in itself, so terribly serious in theissues which it involved--resumed its course: Herr Grosse glaring at hispatient through his magnifying glass; Lucilla leaning back in the chair,holding the handkerchief over her nose.

  A minute, or more, passed--and the ordeal of the examination came to anend.

  Herr Grosse put back his magnifying glass with a grunt which sounded likea grunt of relief, and snatched the handkerchief away from Lucilla.

  "Ach! what a nasty smell!" he said, holding the handkerchief to his nosewith a grimace of disgust. "Tobaccos is much better than this." Hesolaced his nostrils, offended by the lavender-water, with a huge pinchof snuff. "Now I am going to talk," he went on. "See! I keep my distance.You don't want your handkerchiefs--you smell me no more."

  "Am I blind for life?" said Lucilla. "Pray, pray tell me, sir! Am I blindfor life?"

  "Will you kees me if I tell you?"

  "Oh, do consider how anxious I am! Pray, pray, pray tell me!"

  She tried to go down on her knees before him. He held her back firmly andkindly in her chair.

  "Now! now! now! you be nice-goot, and tell me this first. When you areout in the garden, taking your little lazy lady's walks on a shiny-sunnyday, is it all the same to your eyes as if you were lying in your bed inthe middles of the night?"

  "No."

  "Hah! You know it is nice-light at one time? you know it is horrid-darkat the odder?"

  "Yes."

  "Then why you ask me if you are blind for life? If you can see as much asthat, you are not properly blind at all?"

  She clasped her hands, with a low cry of delight. "Oh, where is Oscar?"she said softly. "Where is Oscar?" I looked round for him. He was gone.While his brother and I had been hanging spell-bound over the surgeon'squestions and the patient's answers, he must have stolen silently out ofthe room.

  Herr Grosse rose, and vacated the chair in favor of Mr. Sebright. In theecstasy of the new hope now confirmed in her, Lucilla seemed to beunconscious of the presence of the English oculist, when he took hiscolleague's place. His grave face looked more serious than ever, as hetoo produced a magnifying glass from his pocket, and, gently parting thepatient's eyelids, entered on the examination of her blindness, in histurn.

  The investigation by Mr. Sebright lasted a much longer time than theinvestigation by Herr Grosse. He pursued it in perfect silence. When hehad done he rose without a word, and left Lucilla as he had found her,rapt in the trance of her own happiness--thinking, thinking, thinking ofthe time when she should open her eyes in the new morning, and see!

  "Well?" said Nugent, impatiently addressing Mr. Sebright. "What do yousay?"

  "I say nothing yet." With that implied reproof to Nugent, he turned tome. "I understand that Miss Finch was blind--or as nearly blind as couldbe discovered--at a year old?"

  "I have always heard so," I replied.

  "Is there any person in the house--parent, or relative, or servant--whocan speak to the symptoms noticed when she was an infant?"

  I rang the bell for Zillah. "Her mother is dead," I said. "And there arereasons which prevent her father from being present to-day. Her old nursewill be able to give you all the information you want."

  Zillah appeared. Mr. Sebright put his questions.

  "Were you in the house when Miss Finch was born?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Was there anything wrong with her eyes at her birth, or soonafterwards?"

  "Nothing, sir."

  "How did you know?"

  "I knew by seeing her take notice, sir. She used to stare at the candles,and clutch at things that were held before her, as other babies do."

  "How did you discover it, when she began to get blind?"

  "In the same way, sir. There came a time, poor little thing, when hereyes looked glazed-like, and try her as we might, morning or evening, itwas all the same--she noticed nothing."

  "Did the blindness come on gradually?"

  "Yes, sir--bit by bit, as you may say. Slowly worse and worse one weekafter another. She was a little better than a year old before we clearlymade it out that her sight was gone."

  "Was her father's sight, or her mother's sight ever affected in any way?"

  "Never, sir, that I heard of."

  Mr. Sebright turned to Herr Grosse, sitting at the luncheon-tableresignedly contemplating the Mayonnaise. "Do you wish to ask the nurseany questions?" he said.

  Herr Grosse shrugged his shoulders, and pointed backwards with his thumbat the place in which Lucilla was sitting.

  "Her case is as plain to me as twos and twos make fours. Ach Gott! whatdo I want with the nurse?" He turned again longingly towards theMayonnaise. "My fine appetites is going! When shall we lonch?"

  Mr. Sebright dismissed Zillah with a frigid inclination of the head. Hisdiscouraging manner made me begin to feel a little uneasy. I ventured toask if he had arrived at a conclusion yet. "Permit me to consult with mycolleague before
I answer you," said the impenetrable man. I rousedLucilla. She again inquired for Oscar. I said I supposed we should findhim in the garden--and so took her out. Nugent followed us. I heard HerrGrosse whisper to him piteously, as we passed the luncheon-table, "Forthe lofe of Heaven, come back soon, and let us lonch!" We left theill-assorted pair to their consultation in the sitting-room.