ABSTRACT
Elizabeth Garrett was barred from any hospital appointment, from any army, navy or even poor-law post. She could hardly hope to be accepted as an assistant in general practice, or as the sole doctor in a country community. Upper Berkeley Street lay between the plane trees of Portman Square and the hansom cabs of the Edgware Road. Patients arriving at 20 Upper Berkeley Street were admitted by a trim parlourmaid and passed upstairs to wait in the front drawing room. A communicating door led to the back drawing room where Elizabeth, elegant in brown velvet and Irish lace, received them. Medicines were made up by a salaried male dispenser; Elizabeth persuaded him to take two girls as paying pupils. She looked to the future and intended that a trained woman should succeed him. There were also three young women studying for the Society of Apothecaries’ qualification, whom Elizabeth had invited to attend for clinical training.
