"Come with me," she said. "Mrs. Travers is asleep, and we can talk better in the sitting-room."
They went into the little sitting-room, and sat down. "I am sorry to say," said Miss Spencer, in a voice of grave concern, "that Mrs. Travers got at some brandy one day when I was asleep, and another nurse was on duty. She had just gone out for a few minutes, leaving it, meantime, in an adjoining room, and Mrs. Travers must have seized the moment to satisfy her craving. She was quite overcome by it, when Lizzie Mason came to see her. But Lizzie did not seem at all surprised at it. And the poor thing has been in a restless fit ever since."
"Oh," said Nora, "there was something in Lizzie's manner that made me so uneasy when she spoke to me yesterday, that I felt anxious to come at once. But what a dreadful thing it is!"
"It makes it so much harder to know what to do for her," said Miss Spencer. "Of course we must keep her here as long as we can. I think she is one of the cases that really are uncontrollable by the sufferers themselves,—their will-power being almost gone. For such unfortunates an inebriate asylum is the only hope. I see she is very nervous and excitable. Of course she will be treated here as much as possible for this, now that we know it."
When Nora related the circumstances to her brother, he was not at all surprised. He had known other cases of the kind, and regarded the pathological state of such people as a kind of semi-lunacy produced by physical causes, and curable only by constant watchfulness and unremitting medical treatment.
"Half the world doesn't understand it, and the other half doesn't realize it, or there would be more sympathy for such unhappy sufferers. We're in a great measure brutal, still, in our treatment of them."
Nora was somewhat consoled by this view of the subject, and tried to make pity for the misfortune overcome her repugnance to the results. More than ever, she felt what a terrible thing it was for the poor child, whose peculiarities she could so much better understand. Dr. Blanchard, too, looked very grave over poor little Cecilia.
The tea-party at the new "Girls' Club," as its founders styled it, took place in due time, and was a fair success. The room was filled with as many young girls as it could comfortably accommodate. There was tea, cake and fruit in abundance, to which full justice was done. Nora and Kitty each sang some simple songs; Miss Pomeroy, who was something of an elocutionist, read "The May Queen;" some others played and read; and one or two of the guests, on being invited to do so, gave recitations of their own, learned at school, in the usual school-elocution style. On the whole, notwithstanding a little awkwardness in the attempts of entertainers and entertained to be friendly and sociable, the evening passed off very pleasantly; even Nelly, for once, seeming a little subdued, but evidently very well entertained. At the close, Miss Pomeroy, to whom this task had been assigned, told the girls they were cordially welcome to use the room whenever they pleased. It would be open on several evenings each week, and they could read, write or talk as they liked.
"And may we use the organ?" eagerly asked one, as they were leaving.
"Certainly, if you will use it carefully," Nora replied at once, an answer that evidently gave general satisfaction.