ST PETER’S HOSPITAL.- The autumn course of lectures at this prestigious London institution commenced yesterday in the theatre of the hospital. An introductory address was delivered by the renowned surgeon Mr Samuel Covell in the presence of a large number of students shortly before he commenced one of his famously swift amputations. He began by stating that the institution had been founded by Dr Nicolas Bowley for the reception of the sick poor, who stood so much in need of proper medical treatment. Since that period (1831), a school had been established, in connection with the hospital, for the instruction of students in medical and surgical practice. Mr Covell’s own lecture series will consist of an exposition of the principles of medicine and the application of these principles in the management and cure of diseases. Ample illustration is to be afforded by drawings, preparations, and post-mortem inspections. It is almost unnecessary to describe the advantages to be derived by current students from the connection between the school and the respected hospital and Mr Covell recommended that students attend to their duty with cheerfulness and alacrity.

In proof of the estimation of the renowned surgeon’s own labours, we may add no less than 100 students attended the lecture to receive its benefit.

Edward is fury itself. He throws the newspaper down, making the breakfast things rattle as it hits the table. It is rare for him to lose his temper and Annie waits patiently for him to speak. She knows exactly what the article says as Edward has now read it out twice in its entirety before huffing over extracted highlights.

‘It’s the cheek, the damned cheek of it. My oldest friend and—’ Edward runs his hands through his hair, rage silencing him for a moment.

‘He did not mention it last night then?’ Annie ventures, looking into the depths of her tea.

‘Would I be so angry if I had known about it earlier? He knows full well that the entire series of lectures were developed between the two of us – “Mr Covell’s lectures”! – he’s taken all the damn credit! Not even a single mention of me, St Luke’s or the endless work I’ve put into the venture!’

‘Perhaps the journalist—’

‘Perhaps nothing, Annie. Samuel knows precisely what he is doing. You have no need to defend the rogue. The only fool here is me for trusting my oldest friend not to stab me in the back. I will not stand for it!’ He stamps his foot like a stubborn toddler, making Annie jump.

‘Edward! Please!’ Annie reaches out a conciliatory hand, but this new dining table is too big and he is too far away. She is about to appeal for calm but he is in no mood to listen to anyone’s thoughts or opinions apart from his own.

‘I cannot bear to look at it a moment longer,’ he says. ‘Forgive me, Annie dear, forgive me.’ He storms out leaving Annie on edge and Sarah, the maid, with eyes rounded in delight, storing up all the details to be repeated at length to Mrs McGilliveray in the kitchen later.