three weeks passed and paula still felt the terrible shock of little annie's death. the sad affair had made such an impression on her sensitive nature that she was compelled to give up her settlement work temporarily if not altogether. for days she was haunted by the wretched mother's agonized face; that shrill scream of despair still rang in her ears.
for some time she had been thinking of leaving town and going somewhere for a rest. certainly she needed it. her nerves were all unstrung; she felt more low-spirited and depressed than ever. with her music and her books she tried to shake off the melancholy that weighed upon her, but without much success. the book dropped from her listless hands and she found herself incapable even of thinking, her mind constantly filled with a vague, indefinable feeling of uneasiness.
both mr. ricaby and tod tried their best to cheer her up, insisting that there was nothing to worry about. it was ten months now since her uncle was appointed administrator of her estate. in two months more his guardianship would be at an end, and she would be legally entitled to come into her own. yet, in spite of this reassurance, strange misgivings seized the girl. what new move were her uncle and bascom cooley contemplating? she had heard nothing of them for weeks, but that in itself meant nothing. under the peculiar circumstances, such silence was, perhaps, all the more suspicious.
why had her uncle spoken to this dr. zacharie, the nerve specialist, about her? how frightened she had been that fatal afternoon in mrs. hughes' attic when she first saw the doctor. as he stood staring at her, with those black, piercing eyes and sardonic smile of his he looked exactly like the terrible man in her dream. of course, that was silly, but she could not overcome her first aversion to the man. since the accident he had called at the boarding house several times on the pretense of inquiring after her health, and on each occasion she noticed that he looked at her strangely. why did he come so often—by what right did he stare at her and question in that searching, inquisitional manner? in future, she would not allow it. she would resent it as an intolerable impertinence. if he came again she would refuse to see him.
one afternoon she was home, alone. the weather was stormy and had spoiled a little shopping excursion arranged with one of her settlement friends. at a loss what to do in order to kill time, she thought she would practice a little, so going to the piano, she played a few bars. this soon tired her. finding she had no mind for music, she picked up a book and tried to read. but she found it impossible to become interested. for some reason she could not explain she felt nervous and ill at ease. depressing fancies came crowding into her brain. there was nothing particularly to worry about, yet something within told her that a critical moment in her affairs was fast approaching. she was growing more and more uncomfortable, when suddenly there came a rap at the door. nervously she jumped up, wondering who it could be. surely mrs. parkes would not knock, and she had not heard the front doorbell.
"come in," she called out timidly.
the door opened and dr. zacharie appeared on the threshold, bowing and smiling.
dr. louis zacharie belonged to that class of medical practitioner, limited happily in number, who do not hesitate to disgrace a noble profession for mere love of lucre. an arrant humbug, he called himself a nerve specialist, and with the help of one or two yellow newspapers ever ready to print any trash so long as it was sensational, had succeeded in getting himself talked about as an authority on nervous diseases. silly women and foolish men believed he possessed extraordinary powers to cure their imaginary ailments, and flocked in crowds to his waiting rooms. society took him up. it became the fashion to consult him. soon he was so busy that he could be seen by appointment only, and money literally flowed into his coffers. a man of magnetic personality, with some skill as a hypnotist, he had no difficulty in persuading his patients that they were in a very alarming condition, and that only the closest care at his hands could save them from total nervous collapse and worse. his real character as an unprincipled charlatan was, of course, well known to all his medical colleagues, but he was clever enough to cover up his tracks and thus managed to escape disciplinary action by the medical society. he was a comparative newcomer in new york, but in the west he had blazed a long trail of crookedness. driven from san francisco for malpractice, he turned up in denver, where he again aroused the authorities to action. he fled to chicago and for a time kept from public notice. then there was a new scandal, and once more he disappeared, to turn up two or three years later in[pg 183] new york. in the metropolis his peculiar talents seemed to find a more profitable field. within a short time he found himself one of the most successful and fashionable specialists in the city.
one day he found among the patients in his reception room a big, blustering man who introduced himself as bascom cooley. the doctor had already heard of the criminal lawyer, and for a moment was inwardly perturbed, thinking the visit might have some connection with his past history. but mr. cooley soon put him at his ease. he had called on behalf of a friend of his, mr. james marsh. they understood that he, dr. zacharie, was an expert on all nervous disorders. there was a case in mr. marsh's immediate family that they believed needed watching. would the doctor be willing to come to mr. marsh's house for a conference? the doctor looked at the lawyer and the lawyer looked at the doctor. each understood the other. there was money in it—big money. that decided it. dr. zacharie went that same night to west seventy-second street, and ever since had evinced a warm interest in james marsh's ward.
paula's face flushed with annoyance. going hastily forward, she said:
"i am afraid i cannot see you, doctor."
not in the least abashed by this chilly reception,dr. zacharie advanced into the room, the sardonic smile hovering round his thin, cruel mouth.
"i won't detain you a minute— i have come to say good-by," he said blandly.
thinking that she might get rid of him the more quickly by a pretense at politeness, paula said more amiably:
"are you leaving town, doctor?"
the question was unfortunate for, thus encouraged, he took a seat uninvited, and drew off his gloves with deliberate slowness.
"just a few words before i go." fixing her with his penetrating black eyes, he went on: "you know, your case interests me—so much——"
"my case?" echoed paula, coldly elevating her eyebrows as if not comprehending his meaning.
he nodded.
"when i first saw you the day of that unfortunate accident i said to myself——"
he stopped and shook his head ominously. then, after a pause, he continued:
"i said to myself, she's a fine, highly strung girl, who needs care and attention, and, above all—rest—rest. yes, your brain needs rest. it is over-worked—you think too much—the wheels go round too fast."
"yes?" said paula, trying to curb her growing impatience.
the doctor smiled.
"you don't mind my sitting down, do you?" he asked.
"not in the least—if you wish to," she replied curtly, without making a move to take a seat herself.
he sat in silence, watching her stealthily.
"won't you sit down, too?" he said. "we will talk a little."
she shook her head decisively.
"no—i—i can't talk to you. i had fully made up my mind never to see you again. i'll be perfectly frank, dr. zacharie, you have a disquieting effect on me."
he smiled again, a cynical, horrible smile, which made her shudder.
"that is because i tell you the truth," he said, blinking his eyes. "you don't like to hear about your state of mind."
"no. for i don't believe what you say," she retorted hotly. "my health—my mind—is as clear as yours. i am only tired. i'm weary to death of this awful lawsuit. i am compelled to stay in-doors, to keep my door locked so that they shan't serve me with any one of those dreadful papers[pg 186] summoning me to appear, to answer, to show cause, to answer endless questions. even when you knocked just now my heart began to beat."
he shrugged his shoulders as if the symptoms she described confirmed only too well his diagnosis.
"you see," he cried, "you are all nerves! there is great danger there—hidden dangers that only we men of science can see."
starting involuntarily, she exclaimed apprehensively:
"hidden danger! what do you mean? why do you tell me these things? do you think it does me any good to hear them? last time you were here, doctor, i asked you not to call again. i told you i needed no further professional advice. i am perfectly well—and strong—and—and—and——"
she stopped and stared at him, as if struck with a new idea.
"you see," he cried quickly, "you cannot even finish your sentence. you have forgotten what you were going to say."
"no," she replied promptly, "i was just thinking—something flashed across my mind. dr. zacharie, you were sent here by uncle james to watch me."
"to watch you?" he echoed with well-simulated surprise.
"yes," she said firmly. "to watch me—am i right?"
he shrugged his shoulders.
"your uncle is anxious about you, of course—why not? you have said many strange things about him. he is actually afraid for you, and for himself. it's natural enough. but come, don't let us speak of him. that is the one subject that we should never mention before you. it is your—your—what shall i call it—that the non-scientific person may understand?"
paula paced nervously up and down the room. what did these insinuations mean? what was the real object of this ambiguous questioning? she was about to retort angrily, when the door opened, and to her great relief mrs. parkes entered.
"oh, i beg your pardon," said the landlady, about to withdraw.
"don't go, please," cried paula, going forward. "i want to see you, mrs. parkes. dr. zacharie is just going." turning to dismiss him without further ceremony, she said curtly: "good-by, doctor. please thank my uncle, and tell him i don't need medical attention."
dr. zacharie rose and bowed. he understood that he was unceremoniously dismissed, but he was not the kind of man to easily lose his sangfroid.
"as you wish," he said, as he rose and went toward the door, "but you will be careful—won't you?" impressively he added:
"remember—there is danger—great danger of total collapse. your nerves need watching. the slightest imprudence——"
"lord sakes, doctor, you're not very comforting!" cried mrs. parkes.
"i always tell my patients the truth," replied the doctor. "it is better."
"then i'm glad i'm not your patient," retorted the landlady promptly. "give me the good, cheerful lie that comforts, even if it ain't true. my experience with parkes taught me that, paula— i was only happy when he was lying to me."
"well, i have warned you, miss marsh," repeated the doctor, "take care!"
paula bowed haughtily.
"thank you—good-by," she said icily.
dr. zacharie opened the door and disappeared.
"phew! isn't he the job's comforter!" exclaimed mrs. parkes. looking suddenly at paula, she said:
"lord sakes, child, how pale you are!"
paula was visibly distressed. the man certainly had frightened her, for she was all trembling. going to the door, she first locked it, and then, turning to mrs. parkes, she said, in an agitated voice:
"don't let him come here again—please! he has such a depressing effect on me. somehow or other i'm afraid of him—afraid of him. i don't know why—but i am."
suddenly she stopped, and, approaching the landlady, said, in a shuddering whisper:
"mrs. parkes, if anything happens to me——"
"gracious! what could happen?" cried the old lady.
"i don't know," replied the young girl gloomily. "my uncle is desperate for money. if anything happened to me—he's the next of kin—he'd get the estate." she stopped, as if unwilling to tell what was on her mind. then, with an effort, she continued: "supposing he——"
"supposing he what?" demanded the other.
"i don't know—i have such strange thoughts—i never know what they're going to do next. mr. ricaby doesn't know, either. there's this strange, inexplicable silence, these strange visits of dr. zacharie. it is as if they were waiting for—for— it's the uncertainty that gets on my nerves so."
the old lady shrugged her shoulders.
"why don't you get married and settle the whole business?" she said.
"get married!" cried paula, compelled to smile in spite of her anxiety.
"certainly. then your husband can do the worrying, and your uncle could whistle for the money.
"yes, yes; but who could i marry?" laughed paula.
the old woman shook her head sagaciously.
"oh, just look around a little. you won't have to look very far. my harry's a good boy—as different from his father as chalk is to cheese. he's fine looking, too, and he's a good son—and, paula, a good son makes a good husband."
"get married," said paula musingly, "and get away from here? yes. that's it—that's it."
"i was speaking to mr. ricaby about it," went on mrs. parkes.
paula looked up, surprised.
"mr. ricaby? what—what did he say?" she demanded.
"he said it was a splendid idea—but you'd have to get your uncle's consent—or the consent of the court—or something. my advice is to marry first and ask consent afterward."
paula was silent and thoughtful for a moment. then she asked:
"did mr. ricaby seemed pleased at the idea?"
"well, not—not—exactly pleased. he didn't throw up his hat and dance a hornpipe, but he congratulated me on having such a fortunate son."
the young girl stared at her landlady as if dumbfounded.
"what!" she cried, "did you tell mr. ricaby that your son—what did he say?"
"i said that harry loved you and would make you a good husband," replied the mother proudly.
"how did you dispose of me in the matter?" smiled the girl.
mrs. parkes seemed embarrassed for an answer. hesitatingly she answered:
"i said—that you—that you were not exactly opposed to the idea."
it was only with difficulty that paula could keep her face straight. controlling herself, she said:
"mrs. parkes, you have said that a good, cheerful lie is sometimes very comforting, but—in this case it's not only cheerless and uncomfortable—it's also most embarrassing. as it happens, i'm very much opposed to the idea."
the mother looked at her blankly. that her harry was not a suitor any girl would eagerly jump at had never entered her mind.
"you could learn to love him," she said testily.
paula was getting rather weary of the subject. impatiently she replied:[pg 192]
"but i don't want to learn to love him. forgive me, mrs. parkes, if i ask you not to refer to the subject again."
"the poor boy is eating his heart out," said mrs. parkes, wiping away a solitary tear.
just as she spoke the door opened and the object of the conversation put his head in.
"say, mater," he grinned, "do you know mr. chase has been waiting downstairs half an hour?"
"oh, my gracious!" cried the old lady, all flustered. "i quite forgot—so he has! he wants to see you. he came while the doctor was here. i told him to wait, and i'd—i—clean forgot—oh, dear! i'll tell him to come up. excuse me, dear, i'm all upside down to-day."
with more excuses the landlady bounced out of the room, leaving the two together. harry had been listening at the keyhole, and now he eyed paula sheepishly. there was an awkward silence. finally he took courage, and said:
"miss paula—i want you to forgive my mother's meddling with our affairs. i promised you i would never speak of marriage again, and i won't. but i can't get mother to—stop spreading the news. she has told mr. ricaby, she has told dr. zacharie, and now she has just told mr. chase that—that the matter between us is settled."
paula gasped with mingled surprise and indignation.
"mr. chase! oh! and dr. zacharie! oh!"
"don't be too hard on her, miss marsh," he said apologetically, "it's the vanity of the mother, she thinks her son is good enough for any one, just because he's her son. but he isn't—i know it, and—when he's a confirmed bachelor of eighty she'll know it, too."
"i hope she's alive then," smiled paula, who had recovered her good nature.
just then the door opened, and tod entered. he first looked at paula, and, with a grimace, extended his hand to harry parkes.
"first of all—congratulations!" he said.
offering his hand to paula, he said:
"congratulations!"
the young girl showed impatience.
"please, mr. chase—don't jest!" she cried.
"what!" exclaimed tod, a pleased expression on his face, "nothing in it?"
"nothing at all!" replied paula laconically.
tod looked immensely relieved. then, turning the subject, he said in a low tone:
"i hate to be the bearer of bad news, paula, but it's bound to be in all the papers to-night."
"bad news!" exclaimed paula apprehensively.
"what is it? tell me; i'm used to that."
harry moved towards the door.
"if you'll pardon me i'll go."
he went out, closing the door behind him. approaching paula, tod said earnestly:
"i should have come here before, only i could not get away. i'm keeping tabs on cooley. i wanted to warn ricaby. ricaby is all right, but he doesn't seem to know how to handle the case. he gets the worst of it every time."
"what is the news?" demanded paula uneasily.
"well, they've arrested ricaby!"
"arrested him! what for?"
"for debt. it appears that he has borrowed money on some securities left in his charge by a client, or something of that sort. he was taken from his office this morning to the city hall court. he's trying to get bail."
"mr. ricaby in prison!" cried paula. "the only friend i have in the world!"
"not the only friend," replied the young man promptly. "count me, too, miss paula. i'm with you in the fight you're putting up against that school of sharks, and you couldn't drive me away from you with a gatling. this is a new move in their game, but we'll block it. i'm going on ricaby's bail bond myself."
"can you?" asked paula eagerly.
"can i?" laughed tod. "it's the easiest thing i do. mother's got some real estate, and she'll sign anything for me. you know it's a joke on jimmy to make his wife put up bail for the man he's had arrested. as for cooley, it will be a scream when he finds it out."
"oh, but the disgrace of it!" cried paula, in dismay. "the humiliation—he's so sensitive. poor mr. ricaby!"
"that's all right, miss marsh," said tod consolingly. "it's a put-up job of the big chief—that's one of his methods. we'll get ricaby out before to-night. i thought you'd like to come with me to jail—he's down in the tombs."
"the tombs!" she exclaimed.
"of course," he went on, "that's no place for a lady, but when i'm with you, you might be in the st. regis for the courteous treatment you'll get. say, can you see cooley's face when he finds out who went on ricaby's bond! do you know what worried them so? they heard that ricaby is trying to raise money to retain ex-senator wratchett. that fellow cooley's a wonder! he hears about things before they happen."
"then it's for me—for my sake," faltered paula, "that mr. ricaby is in prison. i believe he has beggared himself for me—to fight this case. he never tells me how much i owe him. it's all my fault. let's go to him at once. oh, mr. chase, i'm so grateful to you!"
going into her room, she reappeared immediately with her hat and coat and began hurriedly to put them on.
"then call me tod, won't you?" grinned her companion. "all my men friends call me tod. the only name i won't stand for is todhunter. your uncle jimmy insulted me with that epithet once, and i went up so high in the air that he never did it again. i'm the one man your uncle respects. i make so much noise he has to bribe me to keep quiet. that's bascom cooley's argument—the more noise you make the more attention you get, and the more you fool people. cooley says——"
"don't be like mr. cooley," she protested.
"he's mighty successful, all the same. do you know, miss marsh, he and two or three others run this city?"
"more's the pity," she replied dryly.
enthusiastically he went on:
"bascom cooley is the great american legal genius—he never loses a case. if i thought it would please you i'd cut out the brass band effects and put some soft pedal polish on my manners. you wouldn't believe it, would you? i almost graduated, that is, i nearly took a degree. i can slow down to society speed if i want to."
"whatever you are, be yourself," smiled paula gently.
"then you like me as i am, eh?" he grinned. "well, that's a good start!"
"let us go, please," said paula, embarrassed at the personal tone the conversation had taken. "when i think that a noble-hearted, self-sacrificing friend is in prison because he tried to help me—i—feel i ought to share his prison cell with him. let us go to him at once."
"say, i'd go to jail for the rest of my life if you'd share my cell with me," he said, with mock heroism.
paula laughed.
"i think you said you'd cut out the brass band effects, tod."
"that's right," he replied. "i'm an extremist. when i like anybody i—i don't know where to stop. ricaby is a good fellow, and he's entitled to anything you can say about him."
the words were hardly out of his mouth when suddenly there was the sound of footsteps outside. the door opened and mr. ricaby appeared.
