nurse—the woman who overheard and watched—the woman who suspected. The suspicion and the intention of watching were legible in her eyes still. She had come back to renew her watch.
In her hand she carried her box, which she had lugged along from the place where the omnibus had deposited her. She made as if she were stepping in; but the big form of the doctor barred the way.
'Oh!' he said carelessly, 'it is you. Who told you to come back?'
'Is my mistress at home?'
'No; she is not.' He made no movement to let her pass.
'I will come in, please, and wait for her.'
He still stood in the way.
'What time will she return?'
'Have you heard from her?'
'No.'
'Did she leave orders that you were to follow her?'
'No; none that I received. I thought—'
'Servants should never think. They should obey.'
'I know my duty, Dr. Vimpany, without learning it from you. Will you let me pass?'
He withdrew, and she entered.
'Come in, by all means,' he said, 'if you desire my society for a short time. But you will not find your mistress here.'
'Not here! Where is she, then?'
'Had you waited in London for a day or two you would, I dare say, have been informed. As it is, you have had your journey for nothing.'
'Has she not been here?'
'She has not been here.'
'Dr. Vimpany,' said the woman, driven to desperation, 'I don't believe you! I am certain she has been here. What have you done with her?'
'Don't you believe me? That is sad, indeed. But one cannot always help these wanderings. You do not believe me? Melancholy, truly!'
'You may mock as much as you like. Where is she?'
'Where, indeed?'
'She left London to join his lordship. Where is he?
'I do not know. He who would answer that question would be a wise man indeed.'
'Can I see him?'
'Certainly not. He has gone away. On a long journey. By himself.'
'Then I shall wait for him. Here!' she added with decision. 'In this house!'
'By all means.'
She hesitated. There was an easy look about the doctor which she did not like.
'I believe,' she said, 'that my mistress is in the house. She must be in the house. What are you going to do with her? I believe you have put her somewhere.'
'Indeed!'
'You would do anything! I will go to the police.'
'If you please.'
'Oh! doctor, tell me where she is!'
'You are a faithful servant: it is good, in these days, to find a woman so zealous on account of her mistress. Come in, good and faithful. Search the house all over. Come in—what are you afraid of? Put down your box, and go and look for your mistress.' Fanny obeyed. She ran into the house, opened the doors of the salon and the dining- room one after the other: no one was there. She ran up the stairs and looked into her mistress's room: nothing was there, not even a ribbon or a hair-pin, to show the recent presence of a woman. She looked into Lord Harry's room. Nothing was there. If a woman leaves hairpins about, a man leaves his toothbrush: nothing at all was there. Then she threw open the armoire in each room: nothing behind the doors. She came downstairs slowly, wondering what it all meant.
'May I look in the spare room?' she asked, expecting to be roughly refused.
'By all means—by all means,' said the doctor, blandly. 'You know your way about. If there is anything left belonging to your mistress or to you, pray take it.'
She tried one more question.
'How is my patient? How is Mr. Oxbye?'
'He is gone.'
