Her only comfort was derived from the presence of the cat, who came purring to her bedside, and seemed, Juliet fancied, to know that she was ill. But possibly puss was moved by feelings not entirely disinterested, since she presently jumped on to the bed and settled herself cosily at Juliet's feet.
Madame was disturbed to find the young English lady lying in bed, so white, and with such a sorrowful look on her young face. The adventure was not proceeding as she had expected. There was no excitement about it, and it puzzled her. She asked Juliet about her friends, and suggested that she should write to them, Juliet receiving the suggestion in stony silence. Then she proposed that Juliet should see an English doctor, residing in Paris, who came every day to the hotel for his dinner. This proposal Juliet decidedly negatived. She was not ill; it was only a headache; she did not want a doctor. She had a quick sense of the surprise an English medical man would feel at finding her there alone, and dreaded the questions he might be expected to ask.
It was well she declined the suggestion. Madame had no idea that the doctor she mentioned was not a type of all English medical practitioners; but assuredly Juliet would have shrunk in horror from the shabby, dissipated-looking, ill-favoured man, had he been presented to her.
Madame was kind in her way. She brought Juliet some lemonade, which was really reviving, and she shook up and arranged her pillows very adroitly. But madame breathed heavily, and her high-heeled shoes resounded on the polished floor. Juliet, who was in a state of nervous suffering to which every sound is agony, was thankful when madame had satisfied her sense of duty and retired to the regions below.
After a while, Juliet felt a little better, and wishing to prove that there was no occasion for a doctor's services, she got up, and, with slow and feeble movements, dressed herself. But when she had done this, she felt so faint and giddy that she was glad to stretch herself on the couch, taking the pillows from her bed to increase its comfort, which was slight, in spite of its gorgeous appearance.
She was lying thus, feeling very wretched, when she heard the sound of steps on the stairs and the voice of Adolphe. He seemed to be conducting someone to a room. Could it be that he was bringing the doctor to her after all?
Juliet, in dismay, started into a sitting posture, her face turned towards the door. The next moment, it was gently opened—the face of Salome looked in upon her.
Yes, it was indeed Salome, in her close-fitting bonnet and long plain cloak, who advanced. For a moment, Juliet could hardly believe her eyes; then she uttered a cry of amazement and delight, and threw herself, sobbing wildly, into her sister's arms.
[CHAPTER XX]
A DELUSION DESTROYED