least, I can say that I
honestly felt for my quaint and pleasant little friend.
In the evening the doctor called on me at the hotel. The medical
treatment of his patient had succeeded in calming the maddened brain
under the influence of sleep. If the night passed quietly, better news
might be hoped for in the morning.
On the next day I had arranged to drive to the farm, being resolved
not to disappoint Eunice. But I shrank from the prospect of having
to distress her as I had already distressed Miss Jillgall. The only
alternative left was to repeat the sad story in writing, subject to
the concealments which I had already observed. This I did, and sent the
letter by messenger, overnight, so that Eunice might know when to expect
me.
The medical report, in the morning, justified some hope. Mr. Gracedieu
had slept well, and there had been no reappearance of insane violence
on his waking. But the doctor's opinion was far from encouraging when
we spoke of the future. He did not anticipate the cruel necessity of
placing the Minister under restraint--unless some new provocation led to
a new outbreak. The misfortune to be feared was imbecility.
I was just leaving the hotel to keep my appointment with Eunice, when
the waiter announced the arrival of a young lady who wished to speak
with me. Before I could ask if she had mentioned her name, the young
lady herself walked in--Helena Gracedieu.
She explained her object in calling on me, with the exasperating
composure which was peculiarly her own. No parallel to it occurs to me
in my official experience of shameless women.
"I don't wish to speak of what happened yesterday, so far as I know
anything about it," she began. "It is quite enough for me that you have
been obliged to leave the house and to take refuge in this hotel. I
have come to say a word about the future. Are you honoring me with your
attention?"
I signed to her to go on. If I had answered in words, I should have told
her to leave the room.
"At first," she resumed, "I thought of writing; but it occurred to me
that you might keep my letter, and show it to Philip, by way of lowering
me in his good opinion, as you have lowered me in the good opinion of
his father. My object in coming here is to give you a word of warning.
If you attempt to make mischief next between Philip and myself, I shall
hear of it--and you know what to expect, when you have me for an enemy.
It is not worth while to say any more. We u
|