In the spring impatience tortured him. He was tired and his nights were restless. Life was passing; he was now forty-three years old and joys, unless they were snatched quickly, would cease to be joys.
Late in May Dr. King asked for a personal interview—the message could mean only a change for the worse. To be free, to have a few years of life at high pitch—how eager was his longing, how clear his visualization of the nature of that happiness! A year from now Ellen would have finished her course—it would be absurd to wait beyond that time.
But freedom was not at hand. Hilda, he learned, had seemed to improve and had asked for her husband. Dr. King was almost jubilant; the improvement offered hope for all similar cases. She was so much better that he believed it might be possible for her to have a period of liberty in her home under the care of attendants. He felt an intense sympathy for Lanfair, and an intense satisfaction in the news he had to impart. Mrs. Lanfair had not been long enough away for her return to seem like a return from the dead as sometimes tragically happened. But Lanfair must not let himself be too hopeful.
Stephen looked silently down upon the eager little man. Hopeful! He began to tremble. Was he to take her home now? It couldn't be; he would have to explain, to make excuses. He stammered an incoherent answer and followed along thickly carpeted corridors, his cheeks quivering. He fixed his eyes upon the back of Dr. King's well-clad figure and was absurdly and grossly offended by the pattern of his coat. He said that he must get hold of himself, that this would never do.
Only the fact that his guide locked and unlocked all doors through which they passed differentiated the journey from a journey through any large and well-appointed house. It appeared to be endless, but when they paused before Hilda's door, it seemed to have lasted no more than a second. Stephen laid his hand on Dr. King's arm. With difficulty he commanded his voice, and the words when they were formed seemed to come from some other throat. If the interview could be only a little delayed! It was not possible that he would faint! He had felt a similar terror years ago when he had traveled toward Philadelphia expecting to hear that he was forever disgraced.
"Has she been prepared for my visit?"
"Oh, yes! She's waiting for you!"
The superintendent pushed the door open and tapped on an inner door and a nurse greeted them in a friendly voice.
"We've been watching for you, haven't we, Mrs. Lanfair?" she said, turning to some one within.
Stephen felt an insane desire to imitate with childish and impertinent syllables the rise and fall of her voice. He found himself in a luxurious sitting-room. For a moment he could see nothing; then he discovered Hilda in a rocking-chair close to the barred and awninged window which opened upon a portion of the lawn laid out in imitation of a Japanese garden. He could hear the delicate sound of running water, and see birds dipping into a pool.