A BOWL OF GOLD FISH
(_A letter from Penelope_)
_New York, February ----._
DEAR DR. OWEN:
Did you think I had vanished from the earth? I know I ought to have
reported to you a week ago, but--I fear Penelope Wells is an unreliable
person. Forgive me! I am in great distress.
I will say, first, that Atlantic City did me a lot of good. I came back
to town happier than I have been for months, in fact I was so encouraged
that I decided to amuse myself a little, as you advised. Last night I
went to a rather gay ball with some friends, and I was beginning to
think myself almost normal, when suddenly--alas!
I had a strange experience this morning that frightens me. I was sitting
at my desk writing a note when I glanced towards the window where there
is a bowl of gold fish, three beautiful fish and two snails. It amuses
me to watch them sometimes. Well, as I looked up, the sunshine was
flashing on the little darting creatures and I felt myself drawn to the
bowl, and for two or three minutes I stood there staring into it as if I
expected to see something. Then, presently I _did_ see something, I saw
myself inside the bowl--in a kind of vision. I saw myself just as
distinctly as I ever saw anything.
In order that you may understand this, doctor, I must explain that
Captain Herrick took me home from the ball. It was two o'clock in the
morning when we left the place and it had blown up cold during the rain,
so that the streets were a glare of ice and our taxi was skidding
horribly. When we got to Twelfth Street and Fifth Avenue there came a
frightful explosion; a gas main had taken fire and flames were shooting
twenty feet into the air. I was terrified, for it made me think of
Paris--the air raids, the night sirens, the long-distance cannon.
Captain Herrick saw that I was quite hysterical and said that I mustn't
think of going up to Eightieth Street. I must spend the night at his
studio in Washington Square, only a few doors away, and he would go to a
hotel. I agreed to this, for I was nearly frozen.
When we entered the studio I was surprised to find what a beautiful
place it was. It seems that Captain Herrick has rented it from a
distinguished artist. There is a great high ceiling and a wonderful
fireplace where logs were blazing. I was standing before this fireplace
trying to warm myself, when there came a crash overhead, it was only a
gas fixture that had fallen, but it seemed to me the whole building was
coming down. I almost fainted in terror and Chris caught me in his arms,
trying to comfort me. Then, before I realized what he was doing, he had
drawn me close to him and kissed me.
This made me very angry. I felt that he had no right to take advantage
of my fright in this way and I told him I would not stay in his studio a
minute longer. And I did not. I almost ran down the stairs, then out
into the street. It was foolish to get so agitated, but I could not help
it. I went over to the Brevoort and spent the night there. You will
understand in a minute why I am telling you all this, it has to do with
the vision that I saw in the bowl of gold fish.
In this vision I saw myself enter Captain Herrick's studio just as I
really did--in my white satin dress. Christopher was with me in his
uniform. Then I saw myself lying on a divan and--Chris was bending over
me, kissing me passionately. He kissed me many times, it seemed as if he
would never stop kissing me--in the vision. All this was as clear as a
motion picture. The extraordinary part of it is, that I neither resisted
him nor responded in any way, I just seemed to be lying there--with my
eyes closed--as if I were asleep.
I am very much distressed about this. I _know_ that I did not really lie
down on Captain Herrick's divan--I would not have done such a thing for
the world. I _know_ Captain Herrick did not really kiss me in that
passionate way, as I saw him kiss me in the bowl of gold fish, but I
_feel_ that he did. I am afraid that he did. I can't get over the
feeling that he did. This sounds like madness, doesn't it? A woman
cannot be ardently kissed by a man without knowing it, can she? Perhaps
I am mad--perhaps this is the way mad people feel.
Help me, doctor, if you can, and above all _please_ see Captain
Herrick--he is an old friend of yours--and find out exactly what I did
at his studio. I must know the truth. And I can't ask Chris, can I?
Yours in anguish of soul,
PENELOPE WELLS.
P. S.--Please telephone me as soon as you get this and make an
appointment to see me.