Place of Confinement by Anna Dean Page B

waistcoat and had a slightly familiar look.
    ‘Ah me!’ he cried, pressing his hands to his brilliant breast, ‘I would give the world to ease the sorrow from your lovely countenance!’
    Dido stared.
    He came to a standstill on the step beside her, and bowed deeply. ‘Isaac Mountjoy at your service, madam. May I be of any assistance to you?’
    ‘You are very kind, sir,’ she replied, and at the same moment remembered where she had seen him before: it was in the churchyard. He had been talking to Mrs Bailey. ‘But I have only stopped to catch my breath. I am in no need of assistance … Unless you could direct me to the house of Mr Sutherland.’
    ‘Indeed I may, for I am familiar with the physician of that name. If you will but step this way, madam.’ He beckoned her out of the wagon’s shelter and pointed along the street to a substantial house which stood alone near the end of town, and close beside the path leading down to the beach. There was – as yet – only one building beyond it and that was the town’s inn, standing very new and fine and white-fronted where the ground began to rise up to the downs.
    Dido thanked the gentleman for his help. He bowed again more extravagantly than ever and intimated that his day – perhaps his whole existence – had been rendered meaningful by the privilege of being allowed to be of use to her.
    As she fled from his compliments, Dido wondered a little that such a man as this should be a member of Mrs Augusta Bailey’s wide circle of acquaintances … Or perhaps he was one of those ‘second rate’ persons who sought continually to connect himself to the unfortunate woman …
    *   *   *
    The physician’s house was so new built that the little plot before it was still choked with stones and shavings of wood, and Dido was obliged to employ her knuckle upon the door for it yet lacked a bell. But a fine new board above the door informed her that the premises were occupied by Doctor Angus Sutherland, ‘qualified and experienced practitioner in all modern systems of medicine’; which modern systems included ‘the methods of Electricity, Animal Magnetism and the Medicinal Application of Mud’.
    As she noted this information in compliance with her aunt’s instructions to find out all she could about the town’s medical advisor, Dido fervently hoped that with all his modern systems Doctor Sutherland was also conversant with the mysteries of old-fashioned brown medicine; for she was more anxious than ever to complete her errand and escape the town. Even now, from the very corner of her eye, she could see, far back along the straight terrace, the figure of Tom Lomax; he appeared to be watching her and she wished very much to get beyond his reach.
    The house door opened, letting out a fine scent of broiling chops and sausage, and revealing an elderly, indeterminate female in black who might have been a rather grand housekeeper, or a slightly shabby relative. She shook her head sadly. She was very sorry, but Mr Sutherland was not here. He had been called away from his breakfast more than two hours ago to a gentleman who’d been took sudden up at the inn. Dido might step into the parlour and wait if she wished, but she did not know how long the doctor would be, because there was no knowing, was there, when folk were took sudden?
    No, Dido agreed regretfully, there was no knowing; and she said that she would walk up to the inn to search for the elusive Mr Sutherland.
    But, just as she turned away from the house door, she saw Tom again. He had taken a seat upon one of the benches and, with his long legs stretched across the pavement and his hands folded upon the head of his cane, he had every appearance of sitting it out until she was obliged to pass him again.
    ‘I wonder,’ she said quickly, before the woman could close the door, ‘whether there might be another way back to Charcombe Manor – rather than the road through Old Charcombe.’
    ‘Why? Are you from