STRANGE AND SINISTER
Dr. Elliott walked over to the window and raised the sash. "There, that
will do, Ito. Thank you. You may go now. Mrs. Petrovskey is coming to.
If Mrs. Petrovskey, senior, should come in, please tell her I am here."
He took the hot water bottle from the little Jap and placed it at
Claire's feet. "If I need anything more, I'll call you."
"Yes, sir." With a solicitous look towards the motionless figure on the
bed, Ito trotted out of the room.
Claire stirred uneasily. A moan broke from the white lips. The great
sunken eyes opened slowly and rested in wonder upon the face of Dr.
Elliott.
"Did I faint?"
He nodded.
"You gave poor Ito quite a fright. Fortunately I was able to come at
once. Don't worry, you'll be all right in a few minutes. Here, take
this."
He held a spoon to her lips and she swallowed the cloudy liquid
obediently.
"That's a good girl. Now don't talk. Just lie back quietly and see if
you can sleep. I shan't leave you till you're able to fend for
yourself." He sat down beside the bed and took her wrist in sturdy brown
fingers.
"You're so good," she whispered tremulously. "And I'm such a nuisance."
"Didn't I say not to talk?" The tone was gruff, but his fingers
tightened about the frail wrist.
"I'll--be good." The low voice broke. A moan issued from quivering lips.
"Oh, oh, I cannot bear it! I cannot bear it," she sobbed. Her breast
rose and fell in stormy gasps.
The young doctor leaned over her. "Don't, don't, you will hurt yourself!
What is the matter? Tell me about it, perhaps I can help!"
"I cannot bear it!" The sobs rose wildly.
Brown face drained of color, he put his arms about the slight body and
pillowed her head on his breast. "There, there, cry it out if you must.
There's no one but me to hear you."
"Oh, oh, oh!" The slight body writhed in a renewed gust. "What shall I
do? What will become of us all?"
"There, there." He stroked the convulsed forehead with cool fingers.
"Things can't be as bad as all that. Tell me about it. That's what I'm
here for, you know."
The cyclonic sobs increased. He cradled the small tortured body within
his arms and rocked it to and fro like a baby.
"I wish I were dead. I ought never to have been born!"
The man was frightened. If this were to last much longer, there was no
telling what would happen. When he spoke his voice was purposely abrupt.
"This must stop at once. Do you want to kill your child?"
"It would be better for him if he never were born." But his tone of
command had calmed her. The sobs died down into a whimper.
He followed up his advantage sternly. "You must not say such things nor
think them."
She stirred in his arms and he laid her back upon the pillow.
"But it is true. Nobody wants either of us. Nobody ever has wanted us."
"That is because you don't give them a chance. You are so shy. You
always run away. Nobody could help loving you if they really knew you."
She hid her pallid young face. "Alexis doesn't. He wants me to get a
divorce."
He reddened with anger. "That doesn't prove anything! These artistic
people must be the devil to live with. Why don't you give him a divorce
if he wants one? What is the use of staying together if you aren't
happy?"
"I can't--you don't understand----" her voice came muffled from within
the pillow.
He looked down upon the small dark head with compassion.
"Oh, yes, I understand all right. You think you love him and all that.
Women like you always fall for the brutes. But it really isn't love, you
know. An obvious case of masochism. My advice is to divorce and forget
him. He isn't worth all these tears. There are plenty of men in the
world who would be proud and happy in your love. I'm sorry this had to
come up when you're not in the best condition for it. But now that it
has, you might as well face the music."
Her great eyes chided him reproachfully. "He is not bad, poor Alexis.
You misjudge him. It is not his fault that he doesn't love me."
He looked incredulous.
"Why did he marry you, then? Isn't he responsible for his actions?"
She shook her head. "He couldn't help himself. I was literally thrust
down his throat!"
"You can't make me believe that he didn't know what he was doing! Of
course he is obviously a neurotic. An arrant egotist. The sooner you're
rid of him the better. He is taking advantage of your inexperience. And
now you think you've got to pay for it the rest of your life. Why, you
haven't lived one-third of it yet. Give him up. Let him go to the devil
his own way. Don't allow him to drag you down with him. You are
beautiful, appealing----"
"No, no!"
"I think so! Give some other chap the chance to make you happy."
The blanched lips twisted into a wry smile.
"You are only trying to be kind. I wish you wouldn't. I like you better
when you're honest. Nobody has ever been in love with me in all my life.
Nobody has even thought about me like that."
"I have," he replied simply.
Dumbfounded, she sat up in bed and leaned towards him uncomprehendingly.
"You have?"
"Yes," he reiterated sturdily. "I have. Ever since our drive to
Bronxville. And you've been happy with me, too. Didn't we have a good
time when we bought the hat and the earrings? Haven't our little supper
parties been fun?"
A wave of scarlet flooded her face and neck. "You don't know what you
are saying. Yes, of course I've been happy with you. But that doesn't
mean we love each other! Perhaps you pity me. But the other is--is
absurd." Her shaky tones contained both a question and a longing.
"Why will you persist in depreciating yourself? Has nobody ever told you
how sweet you are?" He bent over her and grasped the tiny hands in his.
"Claire, I love you and I want you to divorce this man and marry me. I
know I can make you happy. I will live only for that. I'll take you to
Chicago and in new surroundings you will forget all that you have had to
suffer. Listen, darling, won't you believe me?"
She drew her hands away with a little sob. "But you don't understand.
You forget----"
"The baby, you mean? Why, no, I haven't forgotten him at all. I want him
too. 'The more, the merrier!'" He laughed unsteadily.
Tears gushing from beneath the heavy lids, she looked up at him.
"Oh, you are a dear, and I cannot bear to hurt you. But it is all
impossible. Even if I didn't love Alexis it would be impossible. I could
never consent to a divorce. You see, I'm a Catholic!"
"A Catholic!" His startled gaze rested for a moment upon the ivory
rosary at the head of the bed.
"Yes," she whispered, "now you understand, don't you? And you won't
think I'm ungrateful? Say you understand?"
His set face retained its look of determination.
"I suppose so! But it seems too awful. Don't spoil both our lives."
Hands upon her ears, Claire looked at him beseechingly.
"Stop, you have said enough. If I had met you a year ago, perhaps things
might have been different, although I doubt it, for I've loved Alexis
ever since I was old enough to know what love meant. Now that he is my
husband, I never could live with another man. It would be shameful. I
never could hold my head up again. But please say you understand?"
Sudden pallor upon his square young face, he walked over to the open
window.
"I believe I am beginning to," he said huskily. "I didn't realize that
women like you still existed. I--I am defeated. If you wish, I will not
come here again."
"Oh, oh," Claire gazed after him wanly. "I was afraid you would say
that! Why, you're the only real friend I have. If you desert me, I don't
know what I shall do. Won't you please forgive me?"
He hesitated a moment. His averted face worked oddly. Then he turned and
walked back to the bed.
"What are you talking about?" The warm voice was a trifle unsteady. "Of
course, I forgive you. We'll never mention the subject again. I want you
to consult me just as if this had never happened. Promise?"
He held out his hand and she laid hers in it thankfully. Once more the
tears were very close.
"Of course, I promise. What could I do without you?"
"That's right." He cleared his throat. "Now lie down again. I want you
to stay in bed for a day or two, until your nerves get rested. I'll send
you around a nurse. A nice, fat, little girl who will cheer you up. You
need companionship. This colossal brute," he stooped quickly and picked
up the diminutive Griffon from out his basket, "is not particularly
diverting, except to look at." He met Claire's clouded eyes with a
smile, and bag in hand, started for the door.
"So long, until to-morrow. Don't you dare be gloomy!"
As he reached the large square entrance hall, the front door opened and
admitted Mme. Petrovskey. Swathed in sealskin, wreathed with smiles, a
coquettish hippopotamus, she approached him.
"Oh, Dr. Elliott, you here? How charming! But perhaps I shouldn't be
pleased? Is my dear daughter ill again? Or is this merely the sad return
from one of your delightful little jaunts?"
He bowed awkwardly over the fat, white hand.
"Unfortunately, this visit is purely professional. Mrs. Petrovskey was
taken ill quite unexpectedly, and Ito had the presence of mind to call
me up."
She simpered.
"Dear Ito. He's quite invaluable, isn't he? Poor Claire, so she is ill
again? Quite a tissue-paper little person, I'm afraid. What is the
matter this time?"
"She must have been over-tired when she came in. She fainted and was
unconscious for at least half an hour. I have told her to remain in bed
for several days and I'm sending a nurse. Not that I think it's
serious," he added hastily. Claire wouldn't want her mother-in-law to
suspect anything. "But she needs a rest."
"Another fainting fit? Surely, there must be something seriously wrong?
Are you keeping anything from me?"
"She is very anæmic and her heart isn't quite what it ought to be,
perhaps."
"Isn't it? Dear me! So her heart is affected, you say? But surely you
can cure it, can't you, Doctor?"
The large face simpered childishly. He glared at her with undisguised
dislike.
"Please take me seriously, Mme. Petrovskey. There is nothing comical
about the situation."
"Unless you except the secrecy," she rejoined with unexpected dryness.
He bristled perceptibly. "Secrecy?"
"I don't know what else to call it." The coquettish manner had
disappeared. "It is quite obvious that my daughter-in-law is going to
have a child, although of course she hardly shows it as yet. But what I
cannot understand is why she has not told me about it. It seems very
underhanded and strange, to say the least, decidedly unethical, not to
say suspicious on your part."
"Unethical? Suspicious? What do you mean?" he cried, taken unawares, and
conscious of rising fury.
The guileless China-blue eyes opened wide.
"Why, nothing, of course, against you! Only I thought that perhaps there
might be some reason for all this secrecy."
"What reason should there be?" he exclaimed irritably. "Mrs. Petrovskey,
like many other young women in her situation, has had an urgent desire
to keep her condition to herself as long as possible. I assure you it is
quite an ordinary phase in pregnancy."
"Oh, is that so? How very quaint. I'm such a very simple person myself
that it strikes me as very strange that a young woman should not want to
tell her husband of an expected child, that is, of course, supposing it
to be legitimate."
Dr. Elliott's lips grew white. What in hell was the old she-devil
driving at?
"It might seem strange to a casual observer," he said, very much on his
guard. "But to a doctor it is very ordinary. Quite a normal
idiosyncrasy, I assure you."
Her manner changed, became charged once more with heavy coquetry.
"I'm so relieved to hear you say so. Of course I was not insinuating
anything."--(So she had been, after all!)--"But it is so comforting to
be reassured. I have so much confidence in you, Dr. Elliott. You cannot
imagine what a pleasure it is to me to see the delightful friendship
between you and my frail, little daughter-in-law, poor, dear child. Let
me see, you have been friends for over a year, have you not?"
She encountered the murderous gleam in his eye with a bland smile.
"You are mistaken," he said curtly. "It is not quite four months since I
attended Mrs. Petrovskey for the first time!"
"Oh, dear me! I had imagined you had met long before that. How could I
have made such a mistake?"
"I'm sure I have no idea." A frown between his heavy brows, he regarded
her gravely.
"Well, well, it has all been very sudden, hasn't it? You seem like an
old friend to us all. Why, Claire positively raves over you."
"I cannot imagine Mrs. Petrovskey raving over anything or anybody, least
of all a prosaic doctor like myself."
"Are you prosaic? Oh, I cannot believe that." She laid a heavy hand on
his reluctant arm. "You haven't those romantic brown eyes for nothing.
Oh, must you be going?"
He had edged gradually over to the door and stood with one hand placed
upon the knob.
"I'm afraid I must."
"I am so sorry. I hope my idle chatter hasn't detained you from your
duties?"
Her bland, pussy-cat smile pursued him to the hospital. It haunted the
remainder of his day, and later invaded his sleep. He dreamed that
Claire was a canary and Mme. Petrovskey, in the form of a Cheshire cat,
had devoured her. The smile was outlined with blood.