CHAPTER XIV

  MY HYSTERICAL PATIENT

  That night I could not sleep, and when on receiving my mail the nextmorning I found that it contained no line from Fred, my anxiety could nolonger be kept within bounds, and I determined that, come what might,another day should not pass without my seeing May Derwent. I left thehospital as soon as I decently could, but, even so, it was almost oneo'clock before I was once more on my way to Beverley. On arrivingthere, I found to my disgust that there were no cabs at the station.An obliging countryman offered to "hitch up a team," but I declined,thinking it would be quicker to walk than to wait for it, as theDerwents' house was hardly a mile off. A delicious breeze had sprungup and was blowing new life into me, and I should have enjoyed my walkexcept for the fact that, as my visit must necessarily be a very shortone, I begrudged every minute spent away from May Derwent. I was,therefore, trudging along at a great rate, entirely absorbed inreaching my destination in the shortest possible time, when I wassurprised to perceive in the distance a woman running rapidly towardsme. As there was neither man nor beast in sight, I wondered at thereason of her haste. A sudden illness? A fire? As the flying figure drewnearer, I was dismayed to recognize May Derwent. I rushed forward tomeet her, and a moment later she lay panting and trembling in my arms.As I looked down and saw her fair head lying on my breast I felt as if Iwere having a foretaste of heaven. I was recalled to earth by feelingher slight form shudder convulsively and by hearing an occasionalfrightened sob.

  "What has happened, May? What has frightened you?" I feared that shewould resent this use of her Christian name, but she evidently did notnotice it, for she only clung the tighter to me.

  Mrs. Derwent, whose approach I had been watching, here joined us, hotand out of breath from her unwonted exertion. Her indignation at findingMay in the arms of a comparative stranger was such that she dragged herdaughter quite roughly from me.

  "You must really calm yourself, May," she commanded, with more severitythan I had thought her capable of.

  But the poor child only continued to tremble and cry. As it seemed ahopeless undertaking to try and quiet her, Mrs. Derwent and I each tookher by an arm and between us we assisted her home. As we were nearingit, I saw Norman hurrying towards us.

  "What's the matter?" he inquired, anxiously.

  As May had grown gradually more composed, her mother felt she could nowleave her to my care, and, joining Norman, they walked briskly ahead, anarrangement which I don't think that young man at all relished.

  My darling and I strolled slowly on, she leaning confidingly on me, andI was well content.

  "You are not frightened, now?" I asked.

  She raised her beautiful eyes for an instant to mine.

  "No," she murmured; and all I could see of her averted face was onesmall crimson ear.

  "I hope you will never be afraid when I am with you," I said, pressingher arm gently to my side. She did not withdraw from me, only hung herhead lower, so I went on bravely.

  "These last forty-four hours have been the longest and most intolerableof my life!"

  She elevated her eyebrows, and I thought I perceived a faint smilehovering around her lips.

  "Indeed!"

  "I hope you got some flowers I sent you yesterday?"

  "Yes. Didn't you receive my note thanking you for them? They were verybeautiful!"

  I loudly anathematised the post which had delayed so important amessage.

  This time there was no doubt about it--and a roguish smile was partingher lips. This emboldened me to ask: "Were these roses as good as thefirst lot? I got them at a different place."

  "Oh, did you send those also? There was no card with them."

  "I purposely omitted to enclose one, as I feared you might consider thatI was presuming on our slight acquaintance. Besides, I doubted whetheryou would remember me or had even caught my name."

  "I had not."

  There was a pause.

  "Oh, what must you have thought of me! What must you think of me!" sheexclaimed, in tones of deep distress, trying to draw her arm away. ButI held her fast.

  "Believe me, I entertain for you the greatest respect and admiration. Ishould never dream of criticising anything you do or might have done."

  She shot a grateful glance at me, and seeing we were unobserved Iventured to raise her small gloved hand reverently to my lips. Sheblushed again, but did not repulse me.

  On arriving at the house, I insisted on her lying down, and, hoping thequiet would do her good, we left her alone. On leaving the room, wepassed Norman pacing up and down outside, like a faithful dog. He didnot offer to join us, but remained at his post.

  I had not questioned May as to the cause of her fright, fearing toexcite her, but I was none the less anxious to know what had occurred.Luckily, Mrs. Derwent was as eager to enlighten me as I was to learn.

  "You know, Doctor Fortescue, how I have tried lately to keep everythingaway from my daughter which could possibly agitate her. However, whenshe suggested that she would like to walk to the village I gladlyacquiesced, never dreaming that on a quiet country road anything couldoccur to frighten her, nervous as she was. With the exception of lastSunday, this was the first time since her return from New York that shehad been willing to go outside the gate; therefore I was especially gladshe should have this little change. I offered to accompany her or ratherthem (for Mr. Norman, of course, joined us), and we all three startedoff together. When we had gone some distance from the house, Mr. Normanremembered an important letter which he had left on his writing-tableand which he was most anxious should catch the mid-day mail. So heturned back to get it. I noticed at the time that May appeared veryreluctant to have him go. I even thought that she was on the point ofasking him not to leave her, but I was glad to see that she controlledherself, for her horror of being separated from that young man hasseemed to me not only silly, but very compromising. So we walked onalone, but very slowly, so that he could easily overtake us. The roadwas pretty, the day heavenly, and my shaken spirits were lighter thanthey had been for some time." Mrs. Derwent paused a moment to wipe hereyes. "Did you happen to notice," she continued, "that clump of bushesnear the bend of the road?"

  "Certainly."

  "Well, just as we were passing those I caught sight of a horrid-lookingtramp, lying on his back, half hidden by the undergrowth. May wassauntering along swinging her parasol, which she had not opened, as ourwhole way had lain in the shade. She evidently did not see the fellow,but I watched him get up and follow us on the other side of the bushes.I was a little frightened, but before I could decide what I had betterdo he had approached May and said something to her which I was unableto catch. It must have been something very dreadful, for she uttered apiercing shriek, and turning on him like a young tigress hit him severaltimes violently over the head with her sunshade. Dropping everything,she fled from the scene. You know the rest."

  The last words were spoken a trifle austerely, and I saw that Mrs.Derwent had not forgotten the position in which she had found herdaughter, although she probably considered that that position wasentirely due to May's hysterical condition and that I had been aninnocent factor in the situation.

  "What became of the tramp?" I inquired, eagerly. "I saw no one followingyour daughter."

  "He did not do so. I stood for a moment watching her tear down the road,and when again I remembered the man I found he had disappeared."

  "Would you know the fellow, if you saw him again?"

  "Certainly! He was an unusually repulsive specimen of his tribe."

  As Mrs. Derwent had failed to recognise him, the man could not have beenher son, as I had for a moment feared.

  "By the way, Doctor, May is still bent on going to New York."

  "Well, perhaps it is advisable that she should do so."

  "But why?"

  "The quiet of the country does not seem to be doing her much good, doesit? Let us, therefore, try the excitement of New York, and see whateffect that will have. Besides, I am very anxio
us to have Miss Derwentsee some great nerve specialist. I am still a very young practitioner,and I confess her case baffles me."

  "I see that you fear that she is insane!" cried Mrs. Derwent.

  "Indeed, I do not," I assured her, "but I think her nerves are veryseriously out of order. If she goes on like this, she will soon be ina bad way. If you wish me to do so, I will find out what specialist Ican most easily get hold of, and make arrangements for his seeing yourdaughter with as little delay as possible."

  "Thank you."

  My time was now almost up, so I asked to see my patient again, so as toassure myself that she was none the worse for her fright.

  I found her with her eyes open, staring blankly at the ceiling, and,from time to time, her body would still twitch convulsively. However,she welcomed us with a smile, and her pulse was decidedly stronger. Itwas a terrible trial to me to see that lovely girl lying there, and tofeel that, so far, I had been powerless to help her. I thought that,perhaps, if she talked of her recent adventure it would prevent herbrooding over it. So, after sympathising with her in a general way, Iasked what the tramp had said to terrify her so much. She shook her headfeebly.

  "I could not make out what he was saying."

  I glanced upwards, and caught a look of horror on her mother's face.

  "Oh, indeed," I said; "it was just his sudden appearance whichfrightened you so much?"

  "Yes," she answered, wearily. "Oh, I wish I could go to New York," shesighed.

  "I have just persuaded your mother to spend a few days there."

  She glanced quickly from one to the other.

  "Really?"

  Mrs. Derwent nodded a tearful assent.

  "And when are we going?" she demanded.

  "To-morrow, if you are well enough."

  "Oh! thank you."

  "But what will you do with your guest?"

  "Mr. Norman? Oh, he will come, too;" but she had the grace to lookapologetic.

  Once outside the room, Mrs. Derwent beckoned me into her _boudoir_.

  "Well, Doctor Fortescue," she exclaimed, "what do you think of that? Mayturns on a harmless beggar, who has done nothing to annoy her, and beatshim! She is not at all ashamed of her behaviour, either."

  "I confess, Mrs. Derwent, I am surprised."

  "Oh, she must be crazy," wailed the poor lady.

  "No, madam--simply hysterical--I am sure of it. Still, this makes memore than ever wishful to have another opinion about her case."

  Before we parted, it had been decided that the choice of suitable roomsshould be left to me.

  Back again in New York, I went immediately in search of them. I was sodifficult to satisfy that it was some time before I selected a suiteoverlooking the Park, which seemed to me to answer all demands.

  May and her mother were not expected till the following afternoon, so Itried to kill the intervening time by making the place look homelike,and I succeeded, I think. Masses of flowers and palms filled every nook,and the newest magazines and books lay on the tables.

  I met the ladies at the station, where they parted from Norman, whom Ihad begun to regard as inevitable. It was, therefore, with a feeling ofexultation that I drove alone with them to their hotel.

  When May saw the bower I had prepared for her she seemed really pleased,and thanked me very prettily.

  I left them, after a few minutes, but not until they had promised todine with me at a restaurant that evening.