“Take this woman away, Stephen,” I directed. “My symptoms are increasing.”
I should have known better than to expect Stephen Low to behave intelligently in a crisis. He glanced questioningly from Grosvenor to the woman and Grosvenor seized the opportunity to make a number of accusations against me.
Dr. Low turned to me with a look of injured surprise. “Sarah, you actually had Miss Trent fired?”
I was not in a mood to listen to moralizing from Stephen Low. “Don’t be stupid, Stephen,” I said with perhaps unwarranted candor. “I was perfectly willing to handle the situation in a manner that could not possibly have harmed Miss Trent, but you refused to support me.” I turned to Grosvenor. “Are you determined to marry this woman?”
“Yes, I am, Mother,” Grosvenor replied rather unsteadily.
“Very well,” I said. “Of course I can’t stop you. May I ask what you plan to live on?”
“My income.”
“That will be stopped. I am still executrix of your grandfather’s estate.”
“I can work,” he said.
I looked at his useless leg and smiled. I’m sure you understand, Louisa, that I was being cruel only to be kind. “Can you?” I asked him.
“We’ll get along,” said Miss Trent. But I noticed that Grosvenor was silent. “Come along, darling,” she said. I detest indiscriminate endearments.
“Just one thing more,” I added. It was apparent to me that Grosvenor was once more caught in his usual panic of weak-kneed indecision. “It’s only fair to warn you, Grosvenor, that tomorrow I shall change my will. Since you have ceased to behave toward me as a son, I see no reason why you should reap the benefits of one.”
Miss Trent pretended complete indifference. But the effect on Grosvenor was what I had expected. He looked from the woman to me and back to the woman again. Then he reached in his pocket for the green bottle and hastily gobbled a pill.
Miss Trent, who appears to be possessed of a certain shrewdness where her own interests are concerned, grasped Grosvenor’s arm. “Don’t be a fool, Grosvenor!” she said. “The money doesn’t make any difference.”
Grosvenor pushed his hair back from his forehead. I recognized the gesture. He had acknowledged defeat. “I’m sorry, Mary,” he said.
Well, the long and short of it is that Grosvenor did at last regain his senses. The woman argued, of course, but to no avail. I kept completely out of the discussion so that Grosvenor could make his own decision, and offered no further comment except to remind Miss Trent that if she didn’t hurry she would miss her train. When she left I suggested that Grosvenor see her to the station. I wanted to impress him with the fact that I was not being unreasonable.
By the time they left I was beginning to feel rather tired. It was past time for my injection, and besides I was experiencing the fatigue that one feels after a hard-won victory in a just cause.
When the door closed behind them, I turned my attention to Dr. Low. Louisa, I was shocked at the man’s appearance! He had collapsed into a chair and his hands were covering his face.
“Stephen,” I said, “What is it? Are you ill?” You may be sure that I was very disturbed at his attitude, not only because it was time for my injection but also out of personal concern for him.
He did not reply to my question but raised his face from his hands. He looked very haggard and for the first time it occurred to me that Stephen Low is getting to be an old man. “Why did you do that, Sarah?” he demanded.
I had no intention of justifying my actions to Stephen Low. I simply pointed out that what I had done had been entirely for Grosvenor’s own good. “Furthermore,” I continued, “I’ve given my whole life to Grosvenor, and I don’t see why he should cavalierly abandon me in my old age.”
Dr. Low merely sat there silently, his expression that of a man who has suffered a great shock. I could not and cannot now imagine why he was so upset. “Some day Grosvenor will thank me for ending this unfortunate relationship,” I said reasonably. “I have merely protected him from his own susceptibility, just as I did his father.”
To illustrate my point, I told Dr. Low how I had handled Harley’s deviation. When I had finished he said slowly, “I suppose I always knew it was something like that that made Harley do it.”
“Nonsense,” I said. “Harley wasn’t in his right mind when he committed suicide. Everyone knows that people commit suicide because of temporary insanity.” I was really annoyed at his obtuseness, but I maintained my temper. “Come, Stephen, you accused me the other day of having a blind spot. It’s you who have one.”
Dr. Low gave me a long, odd look as though I were a complete stranger to him. For a moment I positively thought that the excitement had unbalanced his mind. Then he became reasonable again. “You’re quite right, Sarah. I do have a blind spot. I’ve had one for nearly fifty years.”
I knew of course that he was referring to his devotion to me — a pun on love being blind, you know. It was a relief to see him his old humorous self again. I told him so and then I held out my arm. “It’s after four o’clock, Stephen,” I reminded him. And added in a joking tone, “You mustn’t forget to give me my distilled water.”
He gave me another of those strange looks. Evidently he hadn’t got the joke. “What did you say, Sarah?”
“My distilled water,” I repeated. “You know, my injection.”
My effort at lightness failed. He relapsed into his peculiar mood. He walked heavily to the window and stood there staring out for a moment. He passed his hand over his hair. Then he turned and said, “All right, Sarah,” and went into the bathroom to prepare the hypodermic.
When he came out he was pale and trembling. “For heaven’s sake, Stephen,” I said, out of patience at last, “you’re behaving like Grosvenor!”
“We have a great deal in common, Grosvenor and I,” he said. He poised the needle over my arm, then stopped.
“Can’t you find the vein?” I inquired.
He disregarded my question. “Sarah, do you really intend to go through with disinheriting Grosvenor?” he asked.
“That depends entirely on him,” I said. “So long as he behaves, I shall postpone the making of a new will. I shall tell him so tomorrow. It should prove a spur to future good conduct.”
“I see,” said Dr. Low. He found the vein and inserted the needle.
He left immediately afterward. He did not recover his good spirits. Poor man, he’s so devoted to me that he’s as disturbed by my troubles as though they were his own to bear.
I’m really very tired — the effect of nerve stress, of course, and then I’ve been writing for nearly two hours. It’s such a comfort to have you as a confidante, Louisa. I feel that you more than anyone else completely understands me. This is rather strange because — well, I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Louisa. At one time I actually believed that you were the woman with whom Harley was having an affaire. Seems ridiculous that I should have thought that, doesn’t it?
I shall really have to stop. I’m so weary that my hand is trembling and I’ve commenced to feel an obstruction in my chest. If I didn’t have so much confidence in Stephen Low, I should be worried about the possibility of another attack. I think I’ll just lock my door so that when Grosvenor comes home I won’t be subjected to discussion or argument.
It must be nearly six o’clock. In a little while the Trent woman will be gone and Grosvenor will be free of her forever. Yes, there’s the whirring sound that Father’s clock always makes a minute before it strikes. Harley used to call it Time holding its breath, waiting for something to happen. It’s getting quite dark and everything is very still. I wonder if it’s going to storm. There’s the hour striking now. I’ve never been so tired. I shall sleep soundly tonight.