patients lacked.
“Dr. Doudet Vernier?”
“Yes, Jenny?”
“Is everything... well?”
“Oh, yes. Violet and I were only... We are fine. Are we finished?”
“Yes, Doctor.”
“Good.” I stood up and set my stethoscope on the desk.
Jenny was watching me carefully, the hint of a frown showing on her broad, smooth forehead. Her father was a well-to-do merchant who sold fine china and silverware, a proud man who had not forgotten his humble origins and who did not aspire to social snobbery. His wife was a bit insipid for my taste, but Jenny was both intelligent and good-hearted. I had met her at a party six months ago and casually discussed the clinic with her. Next week and every week since, she had come to the clinic on my day there. We had talked about women and the medical profession on several occasions. Jenny was very shy, but I had tried to encourage her to consider becoming a physician. She was to be married in a few months, and I hoped her husband would not be the type to lock his wife up in the castle tower. Obviously she wanted to ask me something.
“What is it, Jenny?”
She stared at me gravely, licked her lips, but said nothing.
“Come, my dear, what is it? You can tell me.”
“It is something... of a personal nature, Dr. Doudet Vernier.”
“Yes?”
She gazed past me at Violet who was taking off the white apron which all the nurses and volunteers wore. Violet raised only her right eyebrow—a feat I had always envied. “I shall tell Collins to have the carriage brought round.”
“I shall not be long, I think.” I gave Jenny a questioning look.
She shook her head. “No, Dr. Doudet Vernier.”
Violet closed the curtain behind her, and I sat wearily on the wooden chair by the examining table. “Jenny, we have known each other long enough and our ages are near enough that you could call me Michelle. Dr. Doudet Vernier seems too formidable coming from you.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, I couldn’t do that!”
“Whatever you are comfortable with. Now, what do you wish to talk about?”
She licked her lips again, and then spoke so softly her voice was quiet as a whisper. “I am to be married soon I think you know.” She stopped speaking. Her naturally rosy complexion grew even redder, a slow flushing spreading from about her ears.
“Yes, I know.”
“Well, I only... I wondered... I...” Her jaw seemed to lock, and she turned away abruptly. “I think I must leave.”
Comprehension dawned—I had seen these symptoms before; I knew both the cause and the cure. “Wait.” I smiled, stood, and seized her wrist. Her face was positively scarlet. “Has your mother told you nothing, then?”
“Only...” She shook her head. “Nothing.”
Not only insipid, but thoughtless. I drew in my breath. For better or worse, I was long past false modesty. “And you want to know what makes a man and woman, husband and wife?”
“Yes.” Embarrassed she might be, but her sense of relief was palpable.
“I shall tell you, and you certainly should know before you are married.”
“Oh, I think so, too,”
I hesitated for a moment. The biology was straightforward enough, but that was never all there was to it. “What is your young man’s name, Jenny?”
“Henry.”
I laughed. “What a dreadful name!” She immediately appeared stricken. “Oh, forgive me—that is my husband’s name. Teasing is a habit with me. And are you fond of him?” She nodded gravely. “Your father gave you some say in this matter?”
“He did.”
“And is Henry agreeable to look at?”
She gave a quick nod.
“More than agreeable?” Now she smiled, and her smile told me a great deal. “And do you think he cares for you?” Again she nodded. “And does he respect you?”
“I believe he does.”
“Then I think everything will go well.” I sighed, praying it would be so. So many things could go wrong. If the man were rough and insistent, the wedding night could be disastrous. I caught a glimpse of impatience in Jenny’s eyes, and I laughed. “Forgive me, Jenny. I shan’t be evasive. Let me explain.” And so I did, briefly and directly, as I watched Jenny closely. When I finished she stood staring at the window.
“How very odd. My mother only said... Is it not... something of an ordeal?”
I could not restrain a laugh. “Oh no, my dear. No, no. Perhaps at first it might be somewhat painful, but if you love one another and are patient with one another... It is most definitely not an ordeal—never let anyone persuade you of that, although many will try. A famous doctor has written that most women have no sexual desires whatsoever. That is utter nonsense. Some may have such feelings killed off by cruelty, indifference, or sickness, but when everything is right—when a man and woman truly love one another and consummate that love—it is the closest we ever come to heaven on this poor earth.”
Jenny’s cheeks were flushed, and now my own face felt hot. “Pardon me for being so blunt, but...” Jenny seized my big hand in hers. “Oh, thank you, Michelle—thank you!” She smiled at me. I laughed, and put my arm about her.
Someone brushed against the curtain, and it slid open. Violet had seized the cloth with both hands, her slender frame swaying. Her face was ashen, her mouth half open, her eyes wild.
Suddenly her legs gave way, and down she went, pulling the curtain with her as she fell. Jenny cried out. I went to Violet’s side at once. Her face was absolutely white, her lips almost blue, and she felt icy to the touch. Perhaps it was a seizure, but there was no muscle tension or spasm. She gasped for air and groped for my hand.
“I cannot... breathe.”
“Is she all right?” Jenny murmured.
“Get me some water,” I asked Jenny.
“Oh God,” Violet sobbed.
I rolled her over and started to unfasten her dress. I have large fingers, nothing dainty about them and, growing impatient with the endless row of hooks, I seized both sides of the dress and tore it open. When I saw the knot on her corset, I said a very vulgar word.
“Will she die?” Jenny asked.
“No. Not today. Hand me the scalpel from the table, would you? Careful now—it’s sharp.” I took the blade, cut through the knot, and then began to loosen the laces. “No wonder you can’t breathe. Oh, Violet, I thought you knew better.” I sat her up and took the glass from Jenny. “Have a drink.”
She took a big swallow, then drew in a deep breath. “Oh, thank you.” Her color had begun to return. She took her lip between her teeth, glanced at me, then away. “Oh, I feel such a fool, such a silly fool.”
She started to get up, but I grasped her shoulders. “Do not try to stand, not quite yet. Take a few more deep breaths. Does anything hurt?”
“I am fine, Michelle. You were quite right about loose clothing. My stays were far too tight. I could feel the whalebone and steel cutting into my flesh. Perhaps I shall throw out all my corsets.”
“Whalebone is truly the bane of womankind,” I said. Violet smiled, and I heard Jenny suppress a laugh. “Let me help you up. Are you certain you...?”
“I am well, Michelle. I only feel as if I were a very idiot.”
Jenny helped me get Violet to her feet. “Sit on the table for a minute,” I said. “I want to check your heart and your lungs.”
“Michelle—honestly, I am perfectly well.”
