consulting-rooms were filled by a waiting assembly of aristocratic patients. My sister, being a classical scholar, was often employed by the Doctor in making translations or extracts for him. On one occasion, whilst thus engaged in the farthest room of the suite, he called in a low voice, 'Dr. Blackwell,' then a little louder, 'Dr. Blackwell,' and when the attention of all his patients was thus aroused, he called in a voice loud enough for my sister to hear, 'Dr. Blackwell!' and then from the corner of his eye, and with intense amusement, he watched the varied expressions of surprise and dismay depicted on the countenances of his distinguished patients as they saw the approach along the suite of rooms of a lady who thus answered to the summons.
The following letters to my medical sister refer to this period of the work:—
New York: May 12.
I need not tell you with what interest and hope I look forward to your Edinburgh news. The prospect is very good. . . . One of the most difficult points I have to contend with here is the entire absence of medical sympathy; the medical solitude is really awful at times; I should thankfully turn to any educated woman if I could find one. . . . Pray bear in mind to collect all the information you can about maternity, the relation of the sexes, and kindred subjects. We have a vast field to work in this direction, for reliable information is desperately needed in the world on these topics. I feel as if it were peculiarly our duty to meet this want. There is much vain thought given to these matters here. An active set of people are making desperate efforts to spread their
