The boot was on the other foot, now, and I was amused at his
interrogation.
"I have some business to talk over with Miss Fielding," I said. "It
depends largely upon her how long I remain."
"H'm!" He went on with his breakfast.
When Miss Fielding came into the room my first glance would have told me
that it was Joy herself, even if I had not been given the hint already.
As Edna, one would have called her pretty--as Joy she was beautiful. The
lines of thought and care had returned to her face, but they did but
emphasize the richness and meaning of her character, replacing abandon
with subtlety. I watched the doctor's eyes leap at her, and then fall,
disappointed. He, too, knew in a glance. He seemed to be surprised as
well as disappointed. Leah had evidently not told him, and he had not
dared ask. He shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly as we both
rose to meet her.
"Good morning, doctor!" she said, giving him her hand, smiling. "I've
just done a funny thing! Leah told me that you were here, of course,
when I waked up, but I forgot it so completely that I've been trying to
ring you up on the telephone."
I saw his pale blue eyes grow narrower as he laughed with her. He was
pleased. "Well, did you get me?" he said.
"Are there two of you, too?" she returned, and the thing passed off in a
general smile.
I took it that she had already heard from Leah of what had happened
yesterday and I could not help admiring her calmness and self-restraint.
The last thing, of course, that she could remember would be her anguish
of two days when we were all so agitated over Leah's absence and
dramatic return, and that weary vigil in the library trying to keep
awake. Joy was used to these lapses; she had been so long schooled by
her changes that she was usually poised outwardly and calm, ready for
any emergency, on her guard against betraying surprise; but I could not
help picturing to myself the nervous excitement of her awakening when
her memory first rushed back and she had to learn hurriedly the history
of the day before. How much, I wondered, had Leah told her?
Her attitude toward Doctor Copin, while quite that of an old friend, was
so different from what it had been the night before that he must have
felt somewhat uncomfortable at my seeing it. Of any such difference Joy
was herself quite unconscious, but the interest she plainly showed in me
served to heighten it. She was still full of gratitude toward me for
what I had done in bringing Leah back--the doctor, on the other hand,
was only making one of his periodical calls; she was anticipating, also,
his urging again his request to give her a definite course of treatment,
a thing she had steadily opposed. He came, as I understood it, only to
keep track of her disorder in a general way, and to advise her with
regard to it; and it was, so far, more because she had not enough
confidence in his proficiency in this special subject, rather than any
innate distrust of his character, that had impelled her to refuse a
course of hypnotic treatment.
His elaborate wit failed to receive much encouragement from Joy. The
conversation was, therefore, a little stiff for some time, and resulted
finally in a dialogue between Joy and me, the doctor maintaining a
silence almost surly.
After breakfast, however, she took him into the library for a short
colloquy before it was time for him to leave. I waited outdoors. They
came out in a few minutes, she, I saw, a little disturbed, a frown on
her face. Uncle Jerdon drove up in the carriage and the doctor got in,
bade us a conventional farewell, and was carried off.
We sat there for a while without talk, Joy gazing straight ahead of her,
absorbed in her own thoughts. Then she turned to me and said:
"Edna is coming oftener than she used to. I don't like it!"
"Did you speak of it to the doctor?"
"Yes. He tried to reassure me. But I'm still uneasy. It was bad
enough before, to lose two days a week, but if I'm to be robbed of half
my time, it will be unbearable."
"Did you ask him if he thought he could prevent it, in any way?"
"Yes, and he asked me again to let him hypnotize me."
"Oh, I hope you refused!"
"Why?" she demanded, turning quickly to me. "I've refused only because
I didn't consider him able enough--I was afraid to experiment, to put
myself into his power, alone as I am here, and without friends. I
wasn't quite sure enough of him. Have you any other reason why I
shouldn't? He said that he could inhibit Edna's appearance, if I let
him hypnotize me. He said she ought to be sent back to where she came
from, and that he wanted to 'wake me up,' as he expressed it--make me
normal again."
"Then he lied!" I remarked decidedly.
"Oh, Chester, you don't know how you frighten me! If I can't depend
upon Doctor Copin, a physician, where can I look for help, and for
protection against _her_? You have done much for me, but you're only a
layman, after all; what I need is professional advice."
"Yes, of course," I said. "It is impertinent of me--it's positive
audacity, to think I can help you, but, don't you see, the doctor, if he
isn't to be trusted, is the more dangerous because of his knowledge? He
can do you positive harm."
"Why do you distrust him?" she insisted. "I must have specific reason
before I dare even to disregard his orders."
"Very well, then," I said. "But I may seem more than impertinent--even
inquisitive."
She made a fine, impatient gesture. "Oh, we've got beyond such
considerations--tell me!"