"Would you like me to go to her? I will if it would do any good."
Ferrati raised his wife's face to his, and kissed her.
"Yes, she would appreciate that—to-morrow, you shall go." He paused a moment. "I am thinking how to manage about Fru Bjork, how to get the girl away from her, without her suspecting—"
"Ah, well, you and she must work that out together. Necessity sharpens the wits, and Ragna ought to be able to find a way—I don't think that should prove very difficult."
"I must be getting back to her now. I promised her I would come soon."
"Tell her I will come to-morrow, or she can come to me, and we will arrange it all. Tell her to keep her courage up, and that we will see her through!" Virginia called after him, as he left the room, and he answered her with a smile and a wave of the hand.
In the hotel lobby he met Fru Bjork, anxious inquiry written large upon her face.
"Now, Doctor, what is the matter with Ragna? I am really most anxious about the child."
"My dear Signora," he said, "there is nothing to be alarmed about; I find her very much run down—there may be something more, but until I am certain I prefer not to say anything. All that she needs for the present is complete rest and quiet. I shall go up now and see if her headache is any better, and afterwards I would like to talk over with you the course of treatment I wish to propose for her general health."
"I will go up with you," said Fru Bjork, gathering her skirts about her. The Doctor raised a deprecating hand.