He passed her without a word, took the medicine from the table, and approached the bed. It was time to administer it to the patient again, but she had fallen asleep, with Kitty's hand clasped firmly in both her own. He seemed to the young girl to be acting automatically, as if mental agitation were robbing him of control over his movements. He never looked at her; it might well humiliate him to have a witness present during this wretched scene; but had not she, too, suffered in remaining? She had several times attempted to withdraw her hand, that she might flee as far as her feet could carry her, but at her slightest movement Henriette would start in uncontrollable terror.
He attempted to feel the sleeping girl's pulse. Kitty tried to assist him by placing her left hand beneath Henriette's wrist; in doing so, her palm for a moment came in contact with his clasping fingers. He started, and changed colour so instantly that she withdrew her hand in terror. Why was it? Had what he had just passed through made him so nervous that any outward contact irritated him? She glanced aside at him. His breast heaved in a long sigh as he turned away to place the medicine again upon the table.
Meanwhile, Flora had paced the room to and fro in a state of indescribable agitation and impatience. Now she approached the doctor standing by the table. "It was unwise to confess my feelings so frankly," she said, with anger sparkling in her eyes. His silence and the quiet fulfilment of his medical duties in the midst of such a conflict had greatly irritated her. "You are one of those who despise a woman's mental power; you belong to the thousands of irreclaimable egotists who would deny permission to woman to stand upon her own feet——"
"Most certainly, if she cannot stand."
She clenched her small hand upon the table and gazed into his face for one moment, her lips compressed and white. "What do you mean by that, Bruck?" she asked, sharply.
He frowned slightly, and a faint crimson tinged his cheek and forehead; his was evidently one of those sensitive natures which an interchange of sharp words leading to recrimination stretches upon the rack. "I mean," he replied, with equal firmness, and with well-maintained coolness, "that for this 'standing upon her own feet'—to which woman certainly is entitled when by so doing she does not interfere with duties that have a prior claim—that for this 'standing upon her own feet' a firm, unbending will, an entire eradication of sensitive feminine vanity, and, above all, genuine talent, are indispensable."
"And you deny me the possession of these latter qualifications?"
"I have read your articles upon the 'Labour Question' and the 'Emancipation of Woman.'" His voice, usually so finely modulated, grew sharp and keen.
Flora started as if threatened with a blow. "How do you know that I am the author of the articles you have read?" she asked, falteringly, but with her eyes intently fixed upon his face. "I write under false initials."
"But those initials were well known throughout your large circle of acquaintance long ago,—before the essays were published."