Other Things Being Equal Part 3

"Something more," murmured Kemp, rising as he saw Ruth do so. He was about to offer her his arm when Mrs. Merrill, a gently-faced woman, stepped up to them, and laying her hand upon Ruth's shoulder, said rather hurriedly,--

"I am sorry to trouble you, Doctor, but Mrs. Levice--do not be alarmed, Ruth dear--has become somewhat hysterical, and we cannot calm her; will you come this way, please, and no one need know she is in the study."

"My family is making itself prominent to-night," said Ruth, with a little catch in her voice, as they turned with Mrs. Merrill through the conservatory and so across the hall.

"I shall be here, Doctor, if you wish anything," said Mrs. Merrill, standing without as he and Ruth entered and immediately shut the door after them.

"Stay there," he said with quiet authority to Ruth, and she stood quite still where he left her. Mrs. Levice was seated in a large easy-chair with her back to the door; her husband had drawn her head to his bosom.

There was no one else in the room, and for a second not a sound, till Mrs. Levice began to sob in a frightened manner.

"It's nothing at all, Jules," she cried, trying to laugh and failing lamentably; "I--I'm only silly."

"There, dear, don't talk." Levice's face was white as he soothingly stroked her hair.

"Oh!"

The doctor stepped in front of them, and laying both hands upon her shoulders, motioned Levice aside.

"Hush! Not a word!"

At the sound of his stern, brusque voice, the long quivering shriek stopped halfway.

"Be perfectly still," he continued, holding her firmly. "Obey this instant," as she began to whimper; "not a sound must I hear."

Ruth and her father stood spell-bound at the effect of the stranger's measures. For a moment Mrs. Levice had started in affright to scream; but the deep, commanding tone, the powerful hands upon her shoulders, the impressive, unswerving eye that held hers, soon began to act almost hypnotically. The sobbing gradually ceased; the shaking limbs slowly regained their calm; and as she sank upon the cushions the strained look in her eyes melted. She was feebly smiling up at the doctor in response to his own persuasive smile that gradually succeeded the gravity of his countenance.

"That is well," said he, speaking soothingly as to a child, and still keeping his smiling eyes upon hers. "Now just close your eyes for a minute; see, I have your hand,--so. Go to sleep."

There was not a sound in the room; Ruth stood where she had been placed, and Mr. Levice was behind the doctor, his face quite colorless, scarcely daring to breathe. Finally the faint, even breathing of Mrs. Levice told that she slept.

Kemp turned to Mr. Levice and spoke low, not in a whisper, which hisses, but his voice was so hushed that it would not have disturbed the lightest sleeper.

"Put your hand, palm up, under hers. I am going to withdraw my hand and retire, as I do not wish to excite her; she will probably open her eyes in a few moments. Take her home as quietly as you can."

"You will call to-morrow?" whispered Levice.

He quietly a.s.sented.

"Now be deft." The transfer was quickly made, and nodding cheerfully, Dr. Kemp left the room.

Ruth came forward. Five minutes later Mrs. Levice opened her eyes.

"Why, what has happened?" she asked languidly.

"You fell asleep, Esther," replied her husband, gently.

"Yes, I know; but why is Ruth in that gown? Oh--ye-es!" Consciousness was returning to her. "And who was that handsome man who was here?"

"A friend of Ruth."

"He is very strong," she observed pensively. She lay back in her chair for a few minutes as if dreaming. Suddenly she started up.

"What thoughtless people we are! Let us go back to the drawing-room, or they will think something dreadful has happened."

"No, Mamma; I do not feel at all like going back. Stay here with Father while I get our wraps."

Before Mrs. Levice could demur, Ruth had left the room. As she turned in the direction of the stairs, she was rather startled by a hand laid upon her shoulder.

"Oh, you, Louis! I am going for our wraps."

"Here they are. How is my aunt?"

"She is quite herself again. Thanks for the wraps. Will you call up the carriage, Louis? We shall go immediately, but do not think of coming yourself."

"Nonsense! Tell your mother you have made your adieux to Mrs.

Merrill,--she understands; the carriage is waiting."

A few minutes later the Levices and Louis Arnold quietly stole away.

Mrs. Levice has had an attack of hysteria. "Nothing at all," the world said, and dismissed it as carelessly as most of the quiet turning-points in a life-history are dismissed.

Chapter III

The Levices' house stood well back upon its grounds, almost with an air of reserve in comparison with the rows of stately, bay-windowed houses that faced it and hedged it in on both sides. But the broad, sweeping lawns, the confusion of exquisite roses and heliotropes, the open path to the veranda, whereon stood an hospitable garden settee and chair, the long French windows open this summer's morning to sun and air, told an inviting tale.

As Dr. Kemp ascended the few steps leading to the front door, he looked around approvingly.

"Not a bad berth for the grave little bookworm," he mused as he rang the bell.

It was immediately answered by the "grave little bookworm" in person.

"I've been on the lookout for you for the past hour," he explained, leading him into the library and turning the key of the door as they entered.

It was a cosey room, not small or low, as the word would suggest, but large and airy; the cosiness was supplied by comfortable easy-chairs, a lounge or two, a woman's low rocker, an open piano, a few soft engravings on the walls, and books in cases, books on tables, books on stands, books everywhere. Two long lace-draped windows let in a flood of searching sunlight that brought to light not an atom of dust in the remotest corner. It is the prerogative of every respectable Jewess to keep her house as clean as if at any moment a search-warrant for dirt might be served upon her.

"Will you not be seated?" asked Levice, looking up at Kemp as the latter stood drawing off his gloves.

"Is your wife coming down here?"

"No; she is in her room yet."

"Then let us go up immediately. I am not at leisure."

"I know. Still I wish to ask you to treat whatever ailments you may find as lightly as possible in her presence; she has never known anxiety or worry of any kind. It will be necessary to tell only me, and every precaution will be taken."

Here was a second one of this family of three wishing to take the brunt of the trouble on his shoulders, and the third had been bearing it secretly for some time. Probably a very united family, loving and unselfish doubtless, but the doctor had to stifle an amused smile in the face of the old gentleman's dignified appeal.

"Still she is not a child, I suppose; she knows of the nature of my visit?" He moved toward the door.