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I have told you once that everything John Denton says of me is false, unless it is particularly pleasant. And then it hardly does me justice. Now, after my repeated demands, will you tell me what he said?
Yours very truly, RICHARD WARREN
P.S. I have found more in the business form of signature than I had dreamed existed. Let me repeat it another way,
Very truly--yours, R. W.
UNDER-THE-TREES September 14th
Dear and Caviling Poet:
You deserved to be scolded. But we will say no more about it. And I have decided to relent and tell you what Mr. John Denton said.
He said
That you were shy
That you were very blonde
That you were very impractical
That you were very generous
That you were an incorrigible dreamer
And that he thought you were in love!
What have you to reply to these six counts of his indictment?
Curiously yours, THE PRINCESS
NEW YORK CITY September 17th
Dear Portia:
Lies! All counts of the indictment to be immediately quashed--save the very last!
RICHARD WARREN
GREEN HILL September 19
Diary, I have a two-line letter from Richard Warren which I am afraid to answer. And it's all my fault!
CHAPTER VI
Revelations and Results
GREEN HILL September 20
The New Young Man has arrived in our village. An embarra.s.sment of riches! He is a college friend of that Doctor Person, a painter and a poet as well! I have graciously given my consent that he be brought to call. I wonder what he looks like? Not like his name, I hope, which is Penny! Father just came upstairs, and asked me if I would be ready to see Dr. Denton in fifteen minutes. He looked quite funny when he said it, and seemed so ill at ease. I can't imagine.... Well, Diary, although the Doctor doesn't deserve it, I fancy I shall call Sarah and tell her to get me the rose-and-grey bed jacket which is so becoming--to my room!
Three Hours Later
Diary, it's not possible! I can't believe it! I've been here half an hour alone, trying to realize all that it will mean to me, and trying to collect my thoughts. Fifteen minutes to the second after Father spoke to me about this impending and oddly formal visit of the Doctor's, he ushered that gentleman into the room, placed a low chair for him by the bed, and then, taking my hands, said very gravely, "Mavis, Dr. Denton wants to talk to you for a little while. He has something which he is very anxious to persuade you to do. I have told him that, without your consent, it is impossible. You know that I will never force you to anything. But will you listen to him, dear, and for all our sakes try to say 'Yes'?" As if he had to plead with me, my father, for whom I would do anything in the world!
Since the day I was brought home, broken, I have never seen my Father so moved. More out of nervousness than anything else, I said, "Daddy, it sounds like a proposal!"
The minute I said it I was sorry--and glad. For although Father laughed, Dr. Denton looked perfectly furious! It must be painful to turn the color he does--like a--a chameleon.
Then Father kissed me. Under his breath I heard him say, "G.o.d bless my Mavis!" and in a moment I was alone with the enemy.
The steel-blue eyes regarded me for a full moment, and then, almost sternly, he spoke.
"Miss Carroll," he said, "with your permission, and with your help, without which we can do nothing, we are going to ask you to make a series of efforts: first, to sit erect unaided; then, to stand; and, by slow degrees, to walk."
There was something so confident in his tone! Perhaps he might have gone on, but I flung out both hands to him, and he waited.
"Doctor!" I cried, "Doctor--it isn't possible! I have tried! They made me try at first, and it nearly killed me. Don't make me," I begged childishly; "don't make me go through all that horror again!"
"There will be no horror," he said deliberately. "There will be pain--yes--but comparatively slight. All through the summer I have watched your case. Little by little we have stimulated the unused muscles, as you have gained in vitality. At the time following your accident, it was naturally torture to you to be forced to submit to the hands of doctors and nurses. But eleven years have gone by, and I am convinced, and have convinced both our good friend MacAllister and your father, that the injury to your back has long since healed, and that nothing remains but the inflexibility of the muscles and, if I may term it such, a type of mental paralysis."
"You mean ..." I began, not yet believing.
"I mean," he interrupted, "that your mind has persuaded your body that it will never walk again. Now, _I_ know better. Yours is not the first case of this sort which has been brought to my attention. I have seen six cures out of eight such cases during my studies abroad. They interested me very much. It was primarily your case that brought me to Green Hill. And the cure--please believe me--rests entirely with you."
"I don't believe it!" I said flatly, staring at him. "It simply isn't possible that half a hundred doctors have been mistaken." And my eyes, although my tongue did not, said very plainly, "And who are you?"
For the first time, he smiled.
"I am sorry," he said, "if I have been unable to inspire you with so little confidence. The 'half a hundred' doctors were probably quite correct--at the time they had your case. How long has it been since you have had a specialist?"
"Six--no, seven years," I answered, and shuddered.
"I thought so," he said. And then, very suddenly, "Miss Carroll, do you _want_ to walk again? Do you want to be a normal, active girl, instead of a semi-invalid?"
I hated his tone.
"Of course I do," I fairly shouted, "do--do you think I'm a fool?"
"Sometimes," answered the amazing creature, calmly.