confession for Jemima. "She listens to me, and talks a
little, seems rather glad that I am with her. But if I were not, I think
it would not matter. She takes no interest in anything, seems hardly
aware of anything, though she always makes the right answer when one
speaks to her. Otherwise I might think.... Even Philip's letters leave
her unmoved. She never opens them; simply hands them to me and says
listlessly, 'See if he has found her.' And when I answer no, she does
not seem to care particularly.... Sometimes I feel as if it weren't
mother here beside me at all, as if she had gone away, and left just her
body and her voice and her smile--and I wish she had taken the smile
with her. It's hard to bear!... She was a little like this after Dr.
Benoix disappeared, but not so bad.--Oh, James, you don't think, do you,
that there can really be such a thing as a broken heart?"

The Professor comforted his wife with sensible and practical advice; but
he was as uneasy as herself. Psychologist that he was, he know that the
strongest natures cannot bend and bend indefinitely, without in time
reaching the breaking-point.

It was at his suggestion that a famous nerve-specialist was sent for
from a distant city, much to the relief of honest and futile Dr. Jones.

The eminent gentleman made himself extremely comfortable at Storm,
enjoyed the scenery and the Southern cooking, and occasionally conversed
upon topics of the day with Mrs. Kildare, who exerted herself according
to her traditions to put her guest at ease, even to the extent of
sitting up in bed and allowing Jemima to dress her hair in the latest
fashion.

"Mental trouble? Nonsense!" he pronounced, to Jemima's almost sick
relief. "I wish my own mentality were as sound! For years she has been
using up her nervous vitality without replacing it, that is all. This
mental torpor is Nature's way of giving her a rest. Let her alone! That
splendid body of hers will reassert itself presently. Rest is what she
needs. And happiness," he added casually, with an insight which proved
his right to the enormous fee he pocketed.

But it was a prescription rather difficult to fill.

Jemima tried conscientiously to catch her mother's attention with talk
about farm matters, business affairs, the conduct of the dairy and
stable; only to be put aside with a listless, "Better see Jenkins about
that, dear. He's very efficient."

Jenkins was a young man trained by herself into efficiency, wh