streets, I think the quiet of the country and the quiet of the night will help me. I have something serious to do to- morrow,' he added, in a lower tone; 'and I can't rest or sleep till I have thought over it to-night.'
The surgeon understood that he had no common man to deal with. He gave the necessary directions without any further remark, and parted with his patient at his own door.
Left by himself, Midwinter paused, and looked up at the heavens in silence. The night had cleared, and the stars were out—the stars which he had first learned to know from his gypsy master on the hillside. For the first time his mind went back regretfully to his boyish days. 'Oh, for the old life!' he thought, longingly. 'I never knew till now how happy the old life was!'
He roused himself, and went on toward the open country. His face darkened as he left the streets behind him and advanced into the solitude and obscurity that lay beyond.
'She has denied her husband to-night,' he said. 'She shall know her master to-morrow.'
III. THE PURPLE FLASK.
The cab was waiting at the gates as Miss Gwilt approached the Sanitarium. Mr. Bashwood got out and advanced to meet her. She took his arm and led him aside a few steps, out of the cabman's hearing.
'Think what you like of me,' she said, keeping her thick black veil down over her face, 'but don't speak to me to-night. Drive back to your hotel as if nothing had happened. Meet the tidal train to-morrow as usual, and come to me afterward at the Sanitarium. Go without a word, and I shall believe there is one man in the world who really loves me. Stay and ask questions, and I shall bid you good-by at once and forever!'
She pointed to the cab. In a minute more it had left the Sanitarium and was taking Mr. Bashwood back to his hotel.
She opened the iron gate and walked slowly up to the house door. A shudder ran through her as she rang the bell. She laughed bitterly. 'Shivering again!' she said to herself. 'Who would have thought I had so much feeling left in me?'
For once in her life the doctor's face told the truth, when the study door opened between ten and eleven at night, and Miss Gwilt entered the room.
'Mercy on me!' he exclaimed, with a look of the blankest bewilderment. 'What does this mean?'
'It means,' she answered, 'that I have decided to-night instead of deciding to-morrow. You, who know women so well, ought to know that they act on impulse. I am here on an impulse. Take me or leave me, just as you like.'
'Take you or leave you?' repeated the doctor, recovering his presence of mind. 'My dear lady, what a dreadful way of putting it! Your room shall be got ready instantly! Where is your luggage? Will you let me send for it? No? You can do without your luggage to-night? What admirable fortitude! You will fetch it yourself to-morrow? What extraordinary independence! Do take off your bonnet. Do draw in to the fire! What can I offer you?'
'Offer me the strongest sleeping draught you ever made in your life,' she replied. 'And leave me alone till the time comes to take it. I shall be your patient in earnest!' she added, fiercely, as the doctor attempted to remonstrate. 'I shall be the maddest of the mad if you irritate me to-night!'
The Principal of the Sanitarium became gravely and briefly professional in an instant.
'Sit down in that dark corner,' he said. 'Not a soul shall disturb you. In half an hour you will find your room ready, and your sleeping draught on the table.'—'It's been a harder struggle for her than I anticipated,' he thought, as he left the room, and crossed to his Dispensary on the opposite side of the hall. 'Good heavens, what business has she with a conscience, after such a life as hers has been!'
The Dispensary was elaborately fitted up with all the latest improvements in medical furniture. But one of the four walls of the room was unoccupied by shelves, and here the vacant space was filled by a handsome antique cabinet of carved wood, curiously out of harmony, as an object, with the unornamented utilitarian aspect of the place generally. On either side of the cabinet two speaking-tubes were inserted in the wall, communicating with the upper regions of the house, and labeled respectively 'Resident Dispenser' and 'Head Nurse.' Into the second of these tubes the doctor spoke, on entering the room. An elderly woman appeared, took her orders for preparing Mrs. Armadale's bed-chamber, courtesied, and retired.
Left alone again in the Dispensary, the doctor unlocked the center compartment of the cabinet, and disclosed a collection of bottles inside, containing the various poisons used in medicine. After taking out the laudanum wanted for the sleeping draught, and placing it on the dispensary table, he went back to the cabinet, looked into it for a little while, shook his head doubtfully, and crossed to the open shelves on the opposite side of the room.
Here, after more consideration, he took down one out of the row of large chemical bottles before him, filled with a yellow liquid; placing the bottle on the table, he returned to the cabinet, and opened a side compartment, containing some specimens of Bohemian glass-work. After measuring it with his eye, he took from the specimens a handsome purple flask, high and narrow in form, and closed by a glass stopper. This he filled with the yellow liquid, leaving a small quantity only at the bottom of the bottle, and locking up the flask again in the place from which he had taken it. The bottle was next restored to its place, after having been filled up with water from the cistern in the Dispensary, mixed with certain chemical liquids in small quantities, which restored it (so far as appearances went) to the condition in which it had been when it was first removed from the shelf. Having completed these mysterious proceedings, the doctor laughed softly, and went back to his speaking-tubes to summon the Resident Dispenser next.
The Resident Dispenser made his appearance shrouded in the necessary white apron from his waist to his feet. The doctor solemnly wrote a prescription for a composing draught, and handed it to his assistant.
'Wanted immediately, Benjamin,' he said in a soft and melancholy voice. 'A lady patient—Mrs. Armadale, Room No. 1, second floor. Ah, dear, dear!' groaned the doctor, absently; 'an anxious case, Benjamin—an anxious case.' He opened the brand-new ledger of the establishment, and entered the Case at full length, with a brief abstract of the prescription. 'Have you done with the laudanum? Put it back, and lock the cabinet, and give me the key. Is the draught ready? Label it, 'To be taken at bedtime,' and give it to the nurse, Benjamin—give it to the nurse.'
While the doctor's lips were issuing these directions, the doctor's hands were occupied in opening a drawer under the desk on which the ledger was placed. He took out some gayly printed cards of admission 'to view the Sanitarium, between the hours of two and four P.M.,' and filled them up with the date of the next day, 'December 10th.' When a dozen of the cards had been wrapped up in a dozen lithographed letters of invitation, and inclosed in
