Chapter. III

The Levices’ house stood well back upon its grounds, almost with an airrnof reserve in comparison with the rows of stately, bay-windowed housesrnthat faced it and hedged it in on both sides. But the broad, sweepingrnlawns, the confusion of exquisite roses and heliotropes, the open pathrnto the veranda, whereon stood an hospitable garden settee and chair, thernlong French windows open this summer’s morning to sun and air, told anrninviting tale.rnrnAs Dr. Kemp ascended the few steps leading to the front door, he lookedrnaround approvingly.rnrn“Not a bad berth for the grave little bookworm,” he mused as he rang thernbell.rnrnIt was immediately answered by the “grave little bookworm” in person.rnrn“I’ve been on the lookout for you for the past hour,” he explained,rnleading him into the library and turning the key of the door as theyrnentered.rnrnIt was a cosey room, not small or low, as the word would suggest, butrnlarge and airy; the cosiness was supplied by comfortable easy-chairs,rna lounge or two, a woman’s low rocker, an open piano, a few softrnengravings on the walls, and books in cases, books on tables, books onrnstands, books everywhere. Two long lace-draped windows let in a floodrnof searching sunlight that brought to light not an atom of dust in thernremotest corner. It is the prerogative of every respectable Jewess tornkeep her house as clean as if at any moment a search-warrant for dirtrnmight be served upon her.rnrn“Will you not be seated?” asked Levice, looking up at Kemp as the latterrnstood drawing off his gloves.rnrn“Is your wife coming down here?”rnrn“No; she is in her room yet.”rnrn“Then let us go up immediately. I am not at leisure.”rnrn“I know. Still I wish to ask you to treat whatever ailments you may findrnas lightly as possible in her presence; she has never known anxietyrnor worry of any kind. It will be necessary to tell only me, and everyrnprecaution will be taken.”rnrnHere was a second one of this family of three wishing to take the bruntrnof the trouble on his shoulders, and the third had been bearing itrnsecretly for some time. Probably a very united family, loving andrnunselfish doubtless, but the doctor had to stifle an amused smile in thernface of the old gentleman’s dignified appeal.rnrn“Still she is not a child, I suppose; she knows of the nature of myrnvisit?” He moved toward the door.rnrn“Ruth--my daughter, you know--was about to tell her as I left the room.”rnrn“Then we will go up directly.”rnrnLevice preceded him up the broad staircase. As they reached the landing,rnhe turned to the doctor.rnrn“Pardon my care, but I must make sure that Ruth has told her. Justrnstep into the sitting-room a second,” and the precautious husband wentrnforward to his wife’s bedroom, leaving the door open.rnrnStanding there in the hallway, Kemp could plainly hear the followingrnwords:--rnrn“And being interested in nervous diseases,” the peculiarly low voice wasrnsaying, “he told Father he would call and see you,--out of professionalrncuriosity, you know; besides we should not like you to be often taken asrnyou were last night, should we?”rnrn“People with plenty of time on their hands,” soliloquized the doctor,rnlooking at his watch in the hallway.rnrn“What is his name, did you say?”rnrn“Dr. Herbert Kemp.”rnrn“What! Don’t you know that Dr. Kemp is one of the first physicians inrnthe city? Every one knows he has no time for curiosity. Nervous diseasesrnare his specialty; and do you think he would come without--”rnrn“Being asked?” interrupted a pleasant voice; the doctor had rememberedrnthe flight of time, and walked in unannounced.rnrn“Keep your seat,” he continued, as Mrs. Levice started up, the excitedrnblood springing to her cheeks.rnrn“You hardly need an introduction, Esther,” said Levice. “You rememberrnDr. Kemp from last night?”rnrn“Yes. Don’t go, Ruth, please; Jules, hadn’t you something to dorndownstairs?”rnrnDid she imagine for a moment that she could still conceal her troublernfrom his tender watchfulness? Great dark rings encircled her nowrnfeverishly bright eyes; her mouth trembled visibly; and as Ruth drewrnaside, her mother’s shaking fingers held tight to her hand.rnrn“I have nothing in the world to do,” replied Levice, heartily; “I amrngoing to sit right here and get interested.”rnrn“You will have to submit to a friendly cross-examination, Mrs. Levice,” said the physician.rnrnHe drew a chair up before her and took both her hands in his. AsrnRuth relinquished her hold, she encountered a pair of pleasantlyrnauthoritative gray eyes, and instantly divining their expression, leftrnthe room.rnrnShe descended a few steps to the windowed landing. Here she intendedrnjoining the doctor on his way down. Probably her father would followrnhim; but it was her intention to intercept any such plan. A fog hadrnarisen, and the struggling rosy beams of the sun glimmered opalescentlyrnthrough the density. Ruth thought it would be clear by noon, when shernand her mother could go for a stirring tramp. She stood lost in thoughtrntill a firm footfall on the stairs aroused her.rnrn“I see Miss Levice here; don’t come down,” Kemp was saying. “What furtherrndirections I have must be given to a woman.”rnrn“Stay with Mamma, Father,” called Ruth, looking up at her hesitatingrnfather; “I shall see the doctor out;” and she quickly ran down the fewrnremaining steps to Kemp, awaiting her at the foot. She opened therndoor of the library, and closing it quickly behind them, turned to himrnexpectantly.rnrn“Nothing to be alarmed at,” he said, answering her mute inquiry. Hernseated himself at the table, and drew from his vest-pocket pencil andrnblank. Without another glance at the girl, he wrote rapidly for somernminutes; then quickly moving back his chair, he arose and handed her therntwo slips of paper.rnrn“The first is a tonic which you will have made up,” he explained,rnpicking up his gloves and hat and moving toward the door; “the other isrna diet which you are to observe. As I told her just now, she must remainrnin bed and see no one but her immediate family; you must see that shernhears and reads nothing exciting. That is all, I think.”rnrnIndignation and alarm held riot in Ruth’s face and arrested the doctor’srndeparture.rnrn“Dr. Kemp,” she said, “you force me to remind you of a promise you madernme last night. Will you at least tell me what ails my mother that yournuse such strenuous measures?”rnrnA flash of recollection came to the doctor’s eyes.rnrn“Why, this is an unpardonable breach upon my part, Miss Levice; but Irnwill tell you all the trouble. Your mother is suffering with a certainrnform of hysteria to a degree that would have prostrated her had we notrncome forward in time. As it is, by prostrating her ourselves for awhile,rnsay a month or so, she will regain her equilibrium. You have heard ofrnthe food and rest cure?”rnrn“Yes.”rnrn“Well, that is what she will undergo mildly. Has she any duties thatrnwill suffer by her neglect or that will intrude upon her equanimity?”rnrn“No necessary ones but those of the house. Under no circumstances can Irnconceive of her giving up their supervision.”rnrn“Yet she must do so under the present state of affairs. Remember, herrnmind must be kept unoccupied, but time must be made to pass pleasantlyrnfor her. This is not an easy task, Miss Levice; but, according to myrnpromise, I have left you to undertake it.”rnrn“Thank you,” she responded quietly.rnrnKemp looked at her with a sense of calm satisfaction.rnrn“Good-morning,” he said, holding out his hand with a smile.rnrnAs the door closed behind him, Ruth felt as if a burden had fallen from,rninstead of upon her. For the last twenty-four hours her apprehensionsrnhad been excessive. Now, though she knew positively that her mother’srncondition needed instant and constant care, which she must herselfrnassume, all sense of responsibility fell from her. The few quiet wordsrnof this strange physician had made her trust his strength as she wouldrna rock. She could not have explained why it was so; but as her fatherrnremarked once, she might have said, “I trust him implicitly, because,rnthough a man of superiority, he implicitly trusts himself.”rnrnAs she re-entered her mother’s room, her father regarded her intently.rnrn“So we are going to make a baby of you, Mamma,” she cried playfully,rncoming forward and folding her arms around her mother, who lay on thernlounge.rnrn“So he says; and what he says one cannot resist.” There was an apatheticrnring to her mother’s voice that surprised her. Quickly the thoughtrnflashed through her that she was too weary to resist now that she wasrnfound out.rnrn“Then we won’t try to,” Ruth decided, seating herself on the edge ofrnthe lounge close to her mother. From his armchair, Mr. Levice noted withrnremorseful pride the almost matronly poise and expression of his lovelyrnyoung daughter as she bent over her weary-looking mother and smoothedrnher hair.rnrn“And if you are to be baby,” she continued, smiling down, “I shallrnhave to change places with you, and become mother. You will see what arncapital one I shall make. Let’s see, what are the duties? First, babyrnmust be kept clean and sweet,--I am an artist at that; secondly, Fatherrnand the rest of us must have a perfectly appointed menage; third--”rnrn“I do not doubt that you will make a perfect mother, my child;” therngentle meaning of her father’s words and glance caused Ruth to flushrnwith pleasure. When Levice said, “My child,” the words were a caress.“Just believe in her, Esther; one of her earliest lessons was ‘Whateverrnyou do, do thoroughly.’ She had to learn it through experience. But asrnyou trust me, trust my pupil.”rnrnThe soft smile that played upon her husband’s face was reflected on Mrs.rnLevice’s.rnrn“Oh, Ruth,” she murmured tremulously, “it will be so hard for you.”rnrnThis was a virtual laying down of arms, and Ruth was satisfied.