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 hand. ” 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.”