Chapter: Dr. Price was not entirely at ease in his mind as the two doctors drove
rapidly from the hotel to Major Carteret's. Himself a liberal man, from
his point of view, he saw no reason why a colored doctor might not
operate upon a white male child,--there are fine distinctions in the
application of the color line,--but several other physicians had been
invited, some of whom were men of old-fashioned notions, who might not
relish such an innovation.

This, however, was but a small difficulty compared with what might be
feared from Major Carteret himself. For he knew Carteret's unrelenting
hostility to anything that savored of recognition of the negro as the
equal of white men. It was traditional in Wellington that no colored
person had ever entered the front door of the Carteret residence, and
that the luckless individual who once presented himself there upon
alleged business and resented being ordered to the back door had been
unceremoniously thrown over the piazza railing into a rather thorny
clump of rosebushes below. If Miller were going as a servant, to hold a
basin or a sponge, there would be no difficulty; but as a surgeon--well,
he wouldn't borrow trouble. Under the circumstances the major might
yield a point.

But as they neared the house the major's unyielding disposition loomed
up formidably. Perhaps if the matter were properly presented to Dr.
Burns, he might consent to withdraw the invitation. It was not yet too,
late to send Miller a note.

"By the way, Dr. Burns," he said, "I'm very friendly to Dr. Miller, and
should personally like to have him with us to-night. But--I ought to
have told you this before, but I couldn't very well do so, on such
short notice, in Miller's presence--we are a conservative people, and
our local customs are not very flexible. We jog along in much the same
old way our fathers did. I'm not at all sure that Major Carteret or the
other gentlemen would consent to the presence of a negro doctor."

"I think you misjudge your own people," returned Dr. Burns, "they are
broader than you think. We have our prejudices against the negro at the
North, but we do not let them stand in the way of anything that _we_
want. At any rate, it is too late now, and I will accept the
responsibility. If the question is raised, I will attend to it. When I
am performing an operation I must be _aut Caesar, aut nullus_."

Dr. Price was not reassured, but he had done his duty and felt the
reward of virtue. If there should be trouble, he would not be
responsible. Moreover, there was a large fee at stake, and Dr. Burns was
not likely to prove too obdurate.

They were soon at Carteret's, where they found assembled the several
physicians invited by Dr. Price. These were successively introduced as
Drs. Dudley, Hooper, and Ashe, all of whom were gentlemen of good
standing, socially and in their profession, and considered it a high
privilege to witness so delicate an operation at the hands of so eminent
a member of their profession.

Major Carteret entered the room and was duly presented to the famous
specialist. Carteret's anxious look lightened somewhat at sight of the
array of talent present. It suggested, of course, the gravity of the
impending event, but gave assurance of all the skill and care which
science could afford.

Dr. Burns was shown to the nursery, from which he returned in five
minutes.

"The case is ready," he announced. "Are the gentlemen all present?"

"I believe so," answered Dr. Price quickly.

Miller had not yet arrived. Perhaps, thought Dr. Price, a happy
accident, or some imperative call, had detained him. This would be
fortunate indeed. Dr. Burns's square jaw had a very determined look. It
would be a pity if any acrimonious discussion should arise on the eve of
a delicate operation. If the clock on the mantel would only move faster,
the question might never come up.

"I don't see Dr. Miller," observed Dr. Burns, looking around the room.
"I asked him to come at eight. There are ten minutes yet."

Major Carteret looked up with a sudden frown.

"May I ask to whom you refer?" he inquired, in an ominous tone.

The other gentlemen showed signs of interest, not to say emotion. Dr.
Price smiled quizzically.

"Dr. Miller, of your city. He was one of my favorite pupils. He is also
a graduate of the Vienna hospitals, and a surgeon of unusual skill. I
have asked him to assist in the operation."

Every eye was turned toward Carteret, whose crimsoned face had set in a
look of grim determination.

"The person to whom you refer is a negro, I believe?" he said.

"He is a colored man, certainly," returned Dr. Burns, "though one would
never think of his color after knowing him well."

"I do not know, sir," returned Carteret, with an effort at self-control,
"what the customs of Philadelphia or Vienna may be; but in the South we
do not call negro doctors to attend white patients. I could not permit a
negro to enter my house upon such an errand."

"I am here, sir," replied Dr. Burns with spirit, "to perform a certain
operation. Since I assume the responsibility, the case must be under my
entire control. Otherwise I cannot operate."

"Gentlemen," interposed Dr. Price, smoothly, "I beg of you both--this is
a matter for calm discussion, and any asperity is to be deplored. The
life at stake here should not be imperiled by any consideration of minor
importance."

"Your humanity does you credit, sir," retorted Dr. Burns. "But other
matters, too, are important. I have invited this gentleman here. My
professional honor is involved, and I merely invoke my rights to
maintain it. It is a matter of principle, which ought not to give way to
a mere prejudice."

"That also states the case for Major Carteret," rejoined Dr. Price,
suavely. "He has certain principles,--call them prejudices, if you
like,--certain inflexible rules of conduct by which he regulates his
life. One of these, which he shares with us all in some degree, forbids
the recognition of the negro as a social equal."

"I do not know what Miller's social value may be," replied Dr. Burns,
stoutly, "or whether you gain or lose by your attitude toward him. I
have invited him here in a strictly professional capacity, with which
his color is not at all concerned."

"Dr. Burns does not quite appreciate Major Carteret's point of view,"
said Dr. Price. "This is not with him an unimportant matter, or a mere
question of prejudice, or even of personal taste. It is a sacred
principle, lying at the very root of our social order, involving the
purity and prestige of our race. You Northern gentlemen do not quite
appreciate our situation; if you lived here a year or two you would act
as we do. Of course," he added, diplomatically, "if there were no
alternative--if Dr. Burns were willing to put Dr. Miller's presence on
the ground of imperative necessity"--

"I do nothing of the kind, sir," retorted Dr. Burns with some heat. "I
have not come all the way from Philadelphia to undertake an operation
which I cannot perform without the aid of some particular physician. I
merely stand upon my professional rights."

Carteret was deeply agitated. The operation must not be deferred; his
child's life might be endangered by delay. If the negro's presence were
indispensable he would even submit to it, though in order to avoid so
painful a necessity, he would rather humble himself to the Northern
doctor. The latter course involved merely a personal sacrifice--the
former a vital principle. Perhaps there was another way of escape.
Miller's presence could not but be distasteful to Mrs. Carteret for
other reasons. Miller's wife was the living evidence of a painful
episode in Mrs. Carteret's family, which the doctor's presence would
inevitably recall. Once before, Mrs. Carteret's life had been endangered
by encountering, at a time of great nervous strain, this ill-born
sister and her child. She was even now upon the verge of collapse at the
prospect of her child's suffering, and should be protected from the
intrusion of any idea which might add to her distress.

"Dr. Burns," he said, with the suave courtesy which was part of his
inheritance, "I beg your pardon for my heat, and throw myself upon your
magnanimity, as between white men"--

"I am a gentleman, sir, before I am a white man," interposed Dr. Burns,
slightly mollified, however, by Carteret's change of manner.

"The terms should be synonymous," Carteret could not refrain from
saying. "As between white men, and gentlemen, I say to you, frankly,
that there are vital, personal reasons, apart from Dr. Miller's color,
why his presence in this house would be distasteful. With this
statement, sir, I throw myself upon your mercy. My child's life is worth
more to me than any earthly thing, and I must be governed by your
decision."

Dr. Burns was plainly wavering. The clock moved with provoking slowness.
Miller would be there in five minutes.

"May I speak with you privately a moment, doctor?" asked Dr. Price.

They withdrew from the room and were engaged in conversation for a few
moments. Dr. Burns finally yielded.

"I shall nevertheless feel humiliated when I meet Miller again," he
said, "but of course if there is a personal question involved, that
alters the situation. Had it been merely a matter of color, I should
have maintained my position. As things stand, I wash my hands of the
whole affair, so far as Miller is concerned, like Pontius Pilate--yes,
indeed, sir, I feel very much like that individual."

"I'll explain the matter to Miller," returned Dr. Price, amiably, "and
make it all right with him. We Southern people understand the negroes
better than you do, sir. Why should we not? They have been constantly
under our interested observation for several hundred years. You feel
this vastly more than Miller will. He knows the feeling of the white
people, and is accustomed to it. He wishes to live and do business here,
and is quite too shrewd to antagonize his neighbors or come where he is
not wanted. He is in fact too much of a gentleman to do so."

"I shall leave the explanation to you entirely," rejoined Dr. Burns, as
they reentered the other room.

Carteret led the way to the nursery, where the operation was to take
place. Dr. Price lingered for a moment. Miller was not likely to be
behind the hour, if he came at all, and it would be well to head him off
before the operation began.

Scarcely had the rest left the room when the doorbell sounded, and a
servant announced Dr. Miller.

Dr. Price stepped into the hall and met Miller face to face.

He had meant to state the situation to Miller frankly, but now that the
moment had come he wavered. He was a fine physician, but he shrank from
strenuous responsibilities. It had been easy to theorize about the
negro; it was more difficult to look this man in the eyes--whom at this
moment he felt to be as essentially a gentleman as himself--and tell him
the humiliating truth.

As a physician his method was to ease pain--he would rather take the
risk of losing a patient from the use of an anaesthetic than from the
shock of an operation. He liked Miller, wished him well, and would not
wittingly wound his feelings. He really thought him too much of a
gentleman for the town, in view of the restrictions with which he must
inevitably be hampered. There was something melancholy, to a cultivated
mind, about a sensitive, educated man who happened to be off color. Such
a person was a sort of social misfit, an odd quantity, educated out of
his own class, with no possible hope of entrance into that above it. He
felt quite sure that if he had been in Miller's place, he would never
have settled in the South--he would have moved to Europe, or to the West
Indies, or some Central or South American state where questions of color
were not regarded as vitally important.

Dr. Price did not like to lie, even to a negro. To a man of his own
caste, his word was his bond. If it were painful to lie, it would be
humiliating to be found out. The principle of _noblesse oblige_ was also
involved in the matter. His claim of superiority to the colored doctor
rested fundamentally upon the fact that he was white and Miller was not;
and yet this superiority, for which he could claim no credit, since he
had not made himself, was the very breath of his nostrils,--he would not
have changed places with the other for wealth untold; and as a
gentleman, he would not care to have another gentleman, even a colored
man, catch him in a lie. Of this, however, there was scarcely any
danger. A word to the other surgeons would insure their corroboration of
whatever he might tell Miller. No one of them would willingly wound Dr.
Miller or embarrass Dr. Price; indeed, they need not know that Miller
had come in time for the operation.

"I'm sorry, Miller," he said with apparent regret, "but we were here
ahead of time, and the case took a turn which would admit of no delay,
so the gentlemen went in. Dr. Burns is with the patient now, and asked
me to explain why we did not wait for you."

"I'm sorry too," returned Miller, regretfully, but nothing doubting. He
was well aware that in such cases danger might attend upon delay. He had
lost his chance, through no fault of his own or of any one else.

"I hope that all is well?" he said, hesitatingly, not sure whether he
would be asked to remain.

"All is well, so far. Step round to my office in the morning, Miller, or
come in when you're passing, and I'll tell you the details."

This was tantamount to a dismissal, so Miller took his leave. Descending
the doorsteps, he stood for a moment, undecided whether to return home
or to go to the hotel and await the return of Dr. Burns, when he heard
his name called from the house in a low tone.

"Oh, doctuh!"

He stepped back toward the door, outside of which stood the colored
servant who had just let him out.

"Dat's all a lie, doctuh," he whispered, "'bout de operation bein'
already pe'fo'med. Dey-all had jes' gone in de minute befo' you
come--Doctuh Price hadn' even got out 'n de room. Dey be'n quollin'
'bout you fer de las' ha'f hour. Majah Ca'te'et say he wouldn' have
you, an' de No'then doctuh say he wouldn't do nothin' widout you, an'
Doctuh Price he j'ined in on bofe sides, an' dey had it hot an' heavy,
nip an' tuck, till bimeby Majah Ca'te'et up an' say it wa'n't altogether
yo' color he objected to, an' wid dat de No'then doctuh give in. He's
a fine man, suh, but dey wuz too much fer 'im!"

"Thank you, Sam, I'm much obliged," returned Miller mechanically. "One
likes to know the truth."

Truth, it has been said, is mighty, and must prevail; but it sometimes
leaves a bad taste in the mouth. In the ordinary course of events Miller
would not have anticipated such an invitation, and for that reason had
appreciated it all the more. The rebuff came with a corresponding shock.
He had the heart of a man, the sensibilities of a cultivated gentleman;
the one was sore, the other deeply wounded. He was not altogether sure,
upon reflection, whether he blamed Dr. Price very much for the amiable
lie, which had been meant to spare his feelings, or thanked Sam a great
deal for the unpalatable truth.

Janet met him at the door. "How is the baby?" she asked excitedly.

"Dr. Price says he is doing well."

"What is the matter, Will, and why are you back so soon?"

He would have spared her the story, but she was a woman, and would have
it. He was wounded, too, and wanted sympathy, of which Janet was an
exhaustless fountain. So he told her what had happened. She comforted
him after the manner of a loving woman, and felt righteously indignant
toward her sister's husband, who had thus been instrumental in the
humiliation of her own. Her anger did not embrace her sister, and yet
she felt obscurely that their unacknowledged relationship had been the
malignant force which had given her husband pain, and defeated his
honorable ambition. When Dr. Price entered the nursery, Dr. Burns was
leaning attentively over the operating table. The implements needed for
the operation were all in readiness--the knives, the basin, the sponge,
the materials for dressing the wound--all the ghastly paraphernalia of
vivisection.

Mrs. Carteret had been banished to another room, where Clara vainly
attempted to soothe her. Old Mammy Jane, still burdened by her fears,
fervently prayed the good Lord to spare the life of the sweet little
grandson of her dear old mistress.

Dr. Burns had placed his ear to the child's chest, which had been bared
for the incision. Dr. Price stood ready to administer the anaesthetic.
Little Dodie looked up with a faint expression of wonder, as if dimly
conscious of some unusual event. The major shivered at the thought of
what the child must undergo.

"There's a change in his breathing," said Dr. Burns, lifting his head.
"The whistling noise is less pronounced, and he breathes easier. The
obstruction seems to have shifted."

Applying his ear again to the child's throat, he listened for a moment
intently, and then picking the baby up from the table, gave it a couple
of sharp claps between the shoulders. Simultaneously a small object shot
out from the child's mouth, struck Dr. Price in the neighborhood of his
waistband, and then rattled lightly against the floor. Whereupon the
baby, as though conscious of his narrow escape, smiled and gurgled, and
reaching upward clutched the doctor's whiskers with his little hand,
which, according to old Jane, had a stronger grip than any other
infant's in Wellington.

 Dr. Price worries that Dr. Burns does not understand the Southern customs when it comes to race. He talks to Burns about Carteret, and about why he will not allow an African American doctor into his house, but Burns tells him that he misjudges his own people. At the Carteret house, the doctors all gather but Miller has not yet arrived. Price hopes that a fortunate accident delays or detains him. As they prepare to go into surgery, Burns asks about Miller and Carteret questions him. Burns assures him that Miller was his "favorite pupil. a graduate of the Vienna hospitals, and a surgeon of unusual skill. Carteret informs Burns, "In the South we do not call negro doctors to attend white patients. Burns asserts his professional honor and declares that it is a matter of principle that he has Miller assist in the surgery. Price steps in to mediate the situation. Carteret eventually humbles himself and tells Burns that his desire to exclude Miller comes not just from his race but also from a matter of personal import. He thinks of his wife and her shock at seeing Janet Miller and her son. Burns wavers and eventually agrees to begin the surgery without Miller, though he feels like "Pontius Pilate. Miller arrives at the house and Dr. Price meets him before he can enter the surgical room. Price has a hard time confronting Miller with the truth and is reticent to tell him anything that will "wound his feelings. Price feels that Miller is "a sort of social misfit, an odd quantity, educated out of his own class, with no possible hope of entrance into that above it. Price tells Miller that the child took a turn for the worse and that the doctors were forced to begin the procedure sooner than expected. Miller leaves the house, disappointed that he was not able to participate, yet thankful that he should be invited to assist. As he is leaving, one of Carteret's servants whispers to him that everything he was told was a lie. The servant tells him about the argument between Burns and Carteret. Miller leaves the house dejected and humiliated. Just as the doctors prepare to administer the anesthetic to Dodie in the surgical room, the child's airway clears. He coughs up a small piece of the rattle and it lands on the floor

