Kirkland Revels Page 21

” You were in the minstrels’ gallery,” I said quickly, ” and you overheard someone talking.”

  She nodded, her eyes wide, and she glanced over her shoulder as though she expected to find someone behind her. ” You heard something about me?” She nodded; then shook her head.

  “I don’t think we’re going to have many Christmas decorations this year. It’s all because of Gabriel. Perhaps there’ll be a bit of holly.”

  I felt frustrated but I knew that I must not frighten her. She had heard something which she was afraid to repeat because she knew she should not, and if she thought I was trying to find out she would be on her guard against telling me. I had to wheedle it out of her in some way, because I was sure that it was imperative that I should know.

  I forced myself to be calm and said: ” Never mind. Next Christmas”

  “But who knows what’ll have happened to us by next Christmas … to me to you?”

  ” I may well be here. Aunt Sarah, and my baby with me. If it’s a boy they’ll want it brought up here, won’t they?”

  “They might take him away from you. They might put you …”

  I pretended not to have noticed that. I said: “I should not want to be separated from my child. Aunt Sarah. Nobody could do that.”

  ” They could … if the doctor said so.” I lifted the christening robe and pretended to examine it, but to my horror my hands had begun to shake and I was afraid she would notice this. ” Did the doctor say so?” I asked. ” Oh yes. He was telling Ruth. He thought it might be necessary … if you got worse … and it might be a good idea before the baby was born.”

  ” You were in the minstrels’ gallery.”

  ” They were in the hall. They didn’t see me.”

  ” Did the doctor say I was ill?”

  ” He said Mentally disturbed.” He said something about It being a common thing to have hallucinations . and to do strange things and then think other people did them. He said it was a form of persecution mania or something like that. “

  ” I see. And he said I had this?”

  Her lips trembled. ” Oh. Catherine,” she whispered, ” I've liked your being her . B don’t want you to go away. I don’t want you to go to Worstwhistle.”

  The words sounded like the tolling of a funeral bell, my own funeral.

  If I were not very careful they would bury me alive.

  I could no longer remain in that room. I said: “Aunt Sarah, I’m supposed to be resting. You will excuse me if I go now?”

  I did not wait for her to answer. I stooped and kissed her cheek.

  Then I walked sedately to the door and, when I had closed it, ran to my own room, shut the door and stood leaning against it. I felt like an animal who sees the bars of a cage closing about him. I had to escape before I was completely shut in. But how?

  I very quickly made up my mind as to what I would do. I would go and see Dr. Smith and ask him what he meant by talking of me in such a way to Ruth. I might have to betray the’ fact-that Sarah had overheard them, but I should do my utmost to keep her out of this. Yet it was too important a matter to consider such a trifle.

  They were saying, ” She is mad.” The words beat in my brain like the notes of a jungle drum. They were saying that I had hallucinations, that I had imagined I had seen a vision in my room; and then I had begun to do strange things-silly unreasoning things and imagined that someone else did them.

  They had convinced Dr. Smith of this—and I had to prove to him that he and they were wrong.

  I put on my blue cloak—the one which had been hung over the parapet—for it was the warmest of garments and the wind had turned very cold. But I was quite unaware of the weather as I made my way to the doctor’s house.

  I knew where it was because we had dropped Damaris there on our way back from Knaresborough. I myself had never been there before. I supposed that at some time the Rockwells had visited the Smiths, and that in view of Mrs. Smith’s illness, such visits had not taken place while I was at the Revels.

  The house was set in grounds of about an acre. It was a tall, narrow house and the Venetian blinds at the windows reminded me of Glen House.

  There were fir trees in the front garden which had grown rather tall and straggly; they darkened the house considerably. There was a brass plate on the door announcing that this was the doctor’s house, and when I rang the bell the door was opened by a grey-haired maid in a very well starched cap and apron.

  ” Good afternoon,” I said. ” Is the doctor at home?”

  ” Please come in,” answered the maid. ” I’m afraid he is not at home at the moment. Perhaps I can give him a message.”

  I thought that her face was like a mask, and remembered that I had thought the same of Damaris. But I was so over wrought that everything seemed strange on that afternoon. I felt I was not the same person who had awakened that morning. It was not that I believed I was anything but sane, but the evil seed had been sown in my mind, and I defy any woman to hear such an opinion of herself with equanimity.

  The hall seemed dark; there was a plant on a table and beside it a brass tray in which several cards lay. There was a writing-pad and pencil on the table. The maid took this and said: ” Could I have your name, please?”

  ” I am Mrs. Rockwell.”

  ” Oh!” The maid looked startled. ” You wished the doctor to come to you?”

  ” No, I want to see him here.”

  ” It may be an hour before he is here, I’m afraid.”

  ” I will wait for him.”

  She bowed her head and opened a door, disclosing an impersonal room which I suposed was a waiting-room.

  Then I thought that I was after all more than a patient. The doctor had been a friend to me. I knew his daughter well.

  I said: ” Is Miss Smith at home?”

  ” She also is out, madam.”

  ” Then perhaps I could see Mrs. Smith.”

  The maid looked somewhat taken aback, then she said:

  ” I will tell Mrs. Smith you are here.”

  She went away and in a few minutes returned with the information that Mrs. Smith would be pleased to see me. Would I follow her?

  I did so and we went up a flight of stairs to a small room. The blinds were drawn and there was a fire burning in a small grate. Near the fire was a sofa on which lay a woman. She was very pale and thin, but I knew at once that she was Damaris’s mother, for the remains of great beauty were there She was covered with a Paisley shawl and the hand which; lay on that shawl looked too frail to belong to a living human being.

  ” Mrs. Rockwell of Kirkland Revels,” she said as I came in. ” How good of you to come to see me.”

  I took the hand but relinquished it as soon as I could; it was cold and clammy.

  ” As a matter of fact,” I said, ” I came to see the doctor. As he is not in I thought I would ask if you could see me.”

  ” I’m glad you did.”

  ” How are you today?”

  ” Always the same, thank you. That is … as you see me now…. I can only walk about this room and then only on my good days. The stairs are beyond me.”

  I remembered that Ruth had said she was a hypochondriac and a great trial to the doctor. But that was real suffering I saw on her face and I believed that she was more interested in me than in herself.

  ” I have heard that you are going to have a child,” she said.

  ” I suppose the doctor has told you.”

  ” Oh … no. He does not talk about his patients. My daughter told me.”

  ” I have seen a great deal of her. She is so often at the Revels.”

  The woman’s face softened. ” Oh yes. Damaris is very fond of everyone at the Revels.”

  ” And they of her. She is very charming.”

  ” There is only one fault that can be found with her. She should have been a boy.”

  ” Oh, do you think so? I hope for a boy but I shan’t really mind if my child is a girl.”

  ” No, I didn’t mind
—one doesn’t oneself.”

  I was talking desperately to keep my mind off my own plight, and I suppose I was not really thinking much about her or her affairs, but I said: “So it was the doctor who cared.”

  ” Most ambitious men want sons. They want to see themselves reproduced. It’s a tragedy when they are disappointed. Please tell me, is anything wrong?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  ” I thought you looked as though it might be so.”

  ” I … I want to consult the doctor.”

  ” Of course. You came here to do that, didn’t you? I’m sure he won’t be long.”

  ” Let him come soon,” I was praying. ” I must speak to >um. I vmst make him understand.”

  ” Do you want to see him so vary urgently?” she asked.

  ” Yes … I did.”

  ” It’s on your own account, of course.”

  ” Yes.”

  ” I remember when I was having my children, I was continually anxious.”

  ” I didn’t know you had more than one, Mrs. Smith.”

  ” There is only Damaris living. I have made many attempts to have a son. Unfortunately I did not succeed. I bore two stillborn daughters and there were others whom I lost in the early stages of pregnancy. My last, born four years ago … born dead … was a boy. That was a very bitter blow.”

  Although I could not see her face clearly because her back was to the light, I was aware of the change in her expression as she said. ” It was the doctor’s wish that we should have a boy. For the last four years … since the birth of the boy, I have never been well.”

  I was in a hypersensitive state. Worried as I was about my own problem, I was aware that she, too, had a problem of her own. I felt a bond between us which I could not fully understand and which I felt she saw clearly but was uncertain of my ability to see. It was a strange feeling. I was already beginning to ask myself whether my imagination was betraying me. But as soon as such a thought came into my head I dismissed if.

  I was myself—practical, feet on the ground. Nobody, I told myself fiercely—perhaps too fiercely—is going to tell me that I’m going out of my mind.

  She spread her hands on the Paisley shawl with an air of resignation.

  ” One thing,” she said with a little laugh, ” there could be no more attempts.”

  Conversation between us flagged; I was wishing that I had remained in that impersonal waiting-room for the doctor’s return.

  She tried again. ” I was very upset when I heard of your tragedy.”

  ” Thank you.”

  “Gabriel was a charming person. It is hard to believe

  ” It is impossible to believe … what they said of him,” I heard myself reply vehemently. “Ah! I am glad you do not believe it.

  I wonder you don’t go back to your family … to have your child.”

  I was puzzled, for I noticed that there was a little colour in her cheeks and I could see that the thin white hands were trembling. She was excited about something and I fancied she was wondering whether to confide in me. But I was watching myself, and I thought desperately:

  Am I always going to watch myself from now on?

  “My child—if a boy—will be the heir of the Revels,” I said slowly. “

  It’s a tradition that they should be born in the house.”

  She lay back and closed her eyes. She looked so ill that I thought she had fainted, and I rose to look for the bell, but just at that moment Damaris, came in.

  ” Mother!” she cried, and her face looked different because the masklike quality had left it. She looked younger, a lovely vital girl.

  I knew in that moment that she was very fond of the invalid. Her face changed as her gaze fell on me. ” But Mrs. Rockwell What … ? How ?”

  ” I called on the doctor,” I said, ” and as I had to wait I thought I’d make use of the opportunity to see your mother.”

  ” Oh, but …”

  ” Why, have I done something I shouldn’t? I’m sorry. Are you not allowed to receive visitors?”

  ” It is the state of her health,” said Damaris. ” My father is very careful of her.”

  “He is afraid they will over-excite her … or what?”

  ” Yes, that is it. She has to be kept quiet.” Damaris went to her mother and laid a hand on her brow.

  ” I’m all right, my darling,” said Mrs. Smith.

  ” Your head’s hot. Mother.”

  ” Would you like me to go?” I asked.

  “Mease no,” said Mrs. Smith quickly, but Damaris was looking doubtful.

  ” Sit down, Damaris,” she went on, and turning to me: ” My daughter is over-anxious on my behalf.”

  ” And I expect the doctor is,” I said.

  ” Oh yes … yes!” Damaris put in.

  ” I know he must be because he is so kind to all his patients. I hear his praises sung wherever I go.”

  Mrs. Smith lay back, her eyes closed, and Damaris said:

  ” Yes, yes. It is so. They rely on him.”

  ” I hope he will soon be back,” I said.

  ” I am sure he would have hurried back if he had known you were waiting for him.”

  Damaris sat down near her mother and began to talk. I had never heard her talk so much before. She talked of our trip to K-nares borough and the Christmas holiday; she talked of the ” Bring and Buy ” sale and other church activities.

  It was thus that the doctor found us.

  I heard his footsteps on the stairs and then the door was flung open.

  He was smiling but it was a different kind of smile from that which I usually saw on his face, and I knew that he was more disturbed than I had ever seen him before.

  ” Mrs. Rockwell,” he cried. ” Why, tills is a surprise.”

  ” I decided to make the acquaintance of Mrs. Smith while I was waiting.”

  He took my hand and held it firmly in his for a few seconds. I had a notion that he was seeking to control himself. Then he went to his wife’s sofa and laid a hand on her brow.

  “You are far too excited, my dear,” he said.

  “Has she been exciting herself?”

  He was looking at Damaris and I could not see his face clearly.

  “No, Father.” Damaris’s voice sounded faint as though she were a little girl and not very sure of herself.

  He had turned to me. ” Forgive me, Mrs. Rockwell. I was concerned on two counts. On yours and that of my wife. You have come to see me.

  You have something to tell me?”

  “Yes,” I said, “I want to speak to you. I think it is important.”

  ” Very well,” he said. ” You will come to my consulting room. Shall we go now?”

  ” Yes, please,” I said; and I rose and went to Mrs. Smith’s couch.

  I took the cold clammy hand in mine and I wondered about her as I said good-bye. She had changed with the coming of her husband, but I was not sure in what way, for it was as though a shutter had been drawn over her expression. I believed he was going to scold her for exciting herself. She had the air of a child who had disobeyed.

  Her welfare is his greatest concern, I thought; which is natural. He who is so kind to his patients would be especially so to her.

  I said good-bye to Damaris and the doctor led the way down to his consulting room.

  As he shut the door and gave me a chair at the side of the roll-top desk and took his own chair. I felt my spirits rise a little. He looked so benign that I could not believe he would do anything but help roe.

  ” Now,” he said, ” what is the trouble?” j ” Strange things have been happening to me,” I burst out. ” You know about them.”

  “Yes,” he admitted.

  “Some you yourself have told me. I have heard of the rest through other sources.”

  ” You know then that I saw a monk in my bedroom.”

  ” I know that you thought you saw that.”

  ” So you don’t believe me.”

  He lifted a h
and. ” Let us say at this stage that I know that you saw it if that comforts you.”

  ” I don’t want comfort. Dr. Smith. I want people to accept what I tell them as truth.”

  ” That is not always easy,” he said, ” but remember I am here to help you.”

  ” Then,” I said, ” there were the incidents of the bed curtains the warming-pan and the cloak over the parapet.”

  ” That cloak you are wearing,” he said.

  ” So you even know that.”

  ” I had to be told. I am, you know, looking after your neal th

  ” And you believe that I have fancied all these things that they did not really happen outside my imagination.”

  He did not speak for a moment and I insisted: ” Do you? Do you?”

  He lifted a hand. ” Let us review this with calm. We need calm, Mrs.

  Rockwell. You need it more than you need any thing else. “

  ” I am calm. What I need is people who believe in me.”

  ” Mrs. Rockwell, I am a doctor and I have had experience of many strange cases. I know I can talk to you frankly and intelligently.”

  ” So you do not. think I am mad?”

  ” Do not use such a word. There is no need to.”

  ” I am not afraid of words … any more than I am afraid of people who dress up as monks and play tricks on me.”

  He was silent for a few seconds, then he said: “You are going through a difficult time. Your body is undergoing changes. Sometimes when this happens the personalities of women change. You have heard that they have odd fancies for things which they previously have been indifferent ?”

  ” This is no odd fancy!” I cried. ” I think I should tell you immediately that I am here because I know you have been discussing what you call my case with Mrs. Grantley and that you have both decided that I am … mentally unbalanced.”

  “You overheard this!” he said; and I could see that he was taken aback;

  I had no intention of betraying Aunt Sarah, so I said:

  ” I know that you have been discussing this together. You don’t deny it.”

  ” No,” he said slowly, ” that would be foolish of me, wouldn’t it?”

  ” So you and she have decided that I am crazy.”

  ” Nothing of the sort. Mrs. Rockwell, you are very excited. Now, before your pregnancy you were not easily excited, were you? That is one change we see.”