The House Opposite Part 28

She glanced quickly from one to the other.

"Really?"

Mrs. Derwent nodded a tearful a.s.sent.

"And when are we going?" she demanded.

"To-morrow, if you are well enough."

"Oh! thank you."

"But what will you do with your guest?"

"Mr. Norman? Oh, he will come, too;" but she had the grace to look apologetic.

Once outside the room, Mrs. Derwent beckoned me into her _boudoir_.

"Well, Doctor Fortescue," she exclaimed, "what do you think of that? May turns on a harmless beggar, who has done nothing to annoy her, and beats him! She is not at all ashamed of her behaviour, either."

"I confess, Mrs. Derwent, I am surprised."

"Oh, she must be crazy," wailed the poor lady.

"No, madam--simply hysterical--I am sure of it. Still, this makes me more than ever wishful to have another opinion about her case."

Before we parted, it had been decided that the choice of suitable rooms should be left to me.

Back again in New York, I went immediately in search of them. I was so difficult to satisfy that it was some time before I selected a suite overlooking the Park, which seemed to me to answer all demands.

May and her mother were not expected till the following afternoon, so I tried to kill the intervening time by making the place look homelike, and I succeeded, I think. Ma.s.ses of flowers and palms filled every nook, and the newest magazines and books lay on the tables.

I met the ladies at the station, where they parted from Norman, whom I had begun to regard as inevitable. It was, therefore, with a feeling of exultation that I drove alone with them to their hotel.

When May saw the bower I had prepared for her she seemed really pleased, and thanked me very prettily.

I left them, after a few minutes, but not until they had promised to dine with me at a restaurant that evening.

CHAPTER XV

A SUDDEN FLIGHT

One of the many things and people which I am sorry to say my new occupation as Squire of Dames had caused me to neglect, was poor Madame Argot. On leaving the Derwents, I determined to call on her at once. To my surprise, I found Mrs. Atkins there before me. The poor Frenchwoman was crying bitterly.

"Look here!" I said, after we had exchanged greetings; "this will never do. My patient must not be allowed to excite herself in this way."

"Ah, mais monsieur," she cried, "what vill you? I mus' veep; zink only; vone veek ago an' I 'appy voman; now all gone. My 'usban', 'e mad, and zey zay 'e murderer too, but I zay, No, no."

Mrs. Atkins patted her hand gently.

"Monsieur Stuah, 'e tell me to go," she continued, "an' I don' know vere; me not speak English vera good, an' I mus' go alone vid peoples zat speak no French. Ah, I am a miserable, lonely woman," she sobbed.

Mrs. Atkins consoled her as best she could, and promised to get her a congenial place. It was a pretty sight to see the das.h.i.+ng little woman in that humble bed-room, and I had never admired her so much. When she got up to leave, I rose also, and, not wis.h.i.+ng to pa.s.s through Mr.

Stuart's apartments, we left the building by the back way. When we were in the street, Mrs. Atkins started to walk up town.

"Are you going for a walk?" I asked.

"Yes; it is much cooler to-day, and I really must get a little exercise."

"Do you mind my joining you?" I inquired.

"I'd be glad of your company," she answered, cordially.

"It's terribly sad about that poor woman, isn't it?" she said, as we sauntered along.

"It is, indeed," I replied; "and the hospital authorities give no hope of her husband's recovery."

"I suppose there is no doubt that he killed the man?"

Here we were again on this dangerous topic, and I glanced quickly at her, fearing a repet.i.tion of last night's attack.

She noticed my hesitation, and laughed.

"Oh, you needn't be so afraid of what you say. I ain't going to faint again. I want to know the truth, though, and I can't see why you shouldn't tell me."

"Well, if you insist upon it," I said, "here it is: I really don't know whether he is guilty or not; I have been convinced that he was till very recently, but Merritt (the detective, you know) has always been sceptical, and maintains that a woman committed the murder."

"A woman," she repeated, turning her eyes full on me. "But what woman?"

"Merritt refuses to tell me whom he suspects, but he promises to produce the fair criminal before next Tuesday."

We walked on for about a block, when, struck by her silence, I looked at her, and saw that she had grown alarmingly pale. I cursed myself for my loquacity, but what could I have done? It is almost impossible to avoid answering direct questions without being absolutely rude, and as I knew the detective did not suspect her I really could not see why she should be so agitated.

"I guess I'm not very strong," she said; "I'm tired already, and think I'll go home."

I wondered if my society had been disagreeable or, at any rate, inopportune, and had caused her to cut short her walk.

As we repa.s.sed my house, I caught Mrs. Atkins peering apprehensively at it. I followed the direction of her eyes, but could see nothing unusual.

When I got back to my office, I found that Atkins had called during my absence; I was very sorry to have missed him, as he no doubt came to report what Dr. Hartley had said about his wife.

That night I was called out to see a patient, and returned home during the small hours of the morning. I was still some distance from my house when I distinctly saw the back door of the Rosemere open, and a m.u.f.fled figure steal out. I was too far away to be able to distinguish any details. I could not even be sure whether the figure was that of a man or a woman. I hastened my steps as I saw it cross the street, but before I had come within reasonable distance of it, it had disappeared round the corner.

The next morning I was aroused at a very early hour by a vigorous ringing at my bell. Hurrying to the door, I was astonished to find Atkins there. He was white and trembling. I pulled him into the room and made him sit down.