HOW THE LETTER WAS MAILED.
Several months passed, and Mrs. Kenyon remained in confinement. She was
not badly treated, except in being vigilantly guarded, and prevented
from making her escape. Dr. Fox always treated her with suavity, but
she felt that though covered with velvet his hand was of iron, and that
there was little to hope for from him. He never made any objection to
her writing letters, but always insisted on their being handed to him.
It was not long before she began seriously to doubt whether the letters
thus committed to him were really mailed, since no answers came. One
day she asked him abruptly:
"Why is it, Dr. Fox, that I get no answers to my letters?"
"I suppose," he answered, "that your friends are afraid you may be
excited, and your recovery retarded, by hearing from them."
"Has my--has Mr. Kenyon reported that I am insane?"
"Undoubtedly."
"False and treacherous!" she exclaimed bitterly. "Why was I ever mad
enough to marry him?"
Dr. Fox shrugged his shoulders.
"Really," he said, "I couldn't pretend to explain your motives, my dear
madam. Women are enigmas."
"Are my letters regularly mailed, Dr. Fox?" asked Mrs. Kenyon
searchingly.
"How can you ask such a question? Do you not commit them to me?"
"So does Cleopatra," said Mrs. Kenyon, who had fallen into the habit of
addressing her room-mate by the name she assumed. "Do you forward her
letters to Mark Antony?"
"Does she doubt it?" asked the doctor, bowing to the mad queen.
"No, doctor," replied Cleopatra promptly. "I have the utmost faith in
your loyalty, and it shall be rewarded. I have long intended to make
you Lord High Baron of the Nile. Let this be the emblem."
In a dignified manner Cleopatra advanced toward Dr. Fox, and passed a
bit of faded ribbon through his button-hole.
"Thanks, your Majesty," said the doctor. "Your confidence is not
misplaced. I will keep this among my chief treasures."
Cleopatra looked pleased, and Mrs. Kenyon impatient and disgusted.
"He deceives me as he does her, without doubt. It is useless to
question him further."
From this time she sedulously watched for an opportunity to write a
letter and commit it to other hands than the doctor's. But, that he
might not suspect her design, she also wrote regularly, and placed the
letters in his hands.
One day the opportunity came. A young man, related to Cleopatra,
visited the institution. He understood very well the character of his
aunt's aberration, but was surprised to be told that the quiet lady who
bore her company was also crazy.
"What is the nature of her malady?" he enquired of the doctor. "Is she
ever violent?"
"Oh, no."
"She seems rational enough."
"So she is on all points except one."
"What is that?"
"She thinks her husband has confined her here in order to enjoy her
property. In point of fact she has no property and no husband."
"That is curious. Why, then, does she require to be confined?"
"Probably she will soon be released. She has improved very much since
she came here."
"I am glad my aunt has so quiet a companion."
"Yes, they harmonize very well. They have never disagreed."
During one of Mr. Arthur Holman's visits Mrs. Kenyon managed to slip
into his hands a sealed letter.
"Will you have the kindness," she asked quickly, "to put this into the
post-office without informing the doctor?"
"I will," he answered readily.
"Poor woman!" he thought to himself. "It will gratify her, and her
letter will do no harm."
"I shall have to be indebted to your kindness for a postage-stamp," she
said. "I cannot obtain them here."
"Oh, don't mention it," he said.
"You will be sure not to mention this to the doctor?" said Mrs. Kenyon
earnestly.
"On my honor as a gentleman."
"I believe you," she said quietly.
This was the letter, directed to Oliver, which found its way into the
hands of Mr. Kenyon, and occasioned him so much uneasiness.