"Helen's most crazy," she concluded. "She's lying down, now. I gave her a powder and I think she's sleeping."
Frederick toyed with the food before him. He made occasional monosyllabic comments that kept the running fire of his wife's chatter going. Unable to pretend to eat more, he leaned back in his chair.
"I'm not much of an eater," he smiled, "but I've enjoyed your lunch very much."
The sound of steps on the stairs interrupted him.
"Hark, Fred!" his wife exclaimed. "That's Helen, now."
Together they left the dining room and went to the library, where Mrs. Waldstricker had preceded them.
Helen's distraught manner prevented anything like a conventional welcome to her brother-in-law. After Frederick had expressed his sympathy for her anxiety about Elsie and tried to quiet her fears, Madelene carried him off to his room. When she had seen to the details for his comfort, she returned to the library to share Mrs. Waldstricker's vigil.
Frederick found, when he was left alone, that he was in no mood for bed. He was too tired to sleep, too nervous to be quiet anywhere. It seemed to him as though there were some unusual quality in the air, some mysterious whispering to his inner consciousness. He felt vaguely excited. He tried to read but the words conveyed to him no meaning. To an extent never before experienced, possibly because he was again in the Storm Country, he wanted Tess. After a time, he heard the banging of the front door downstairs and confused cries in the hall, but paid little attention to them. In the silence that succeeded, the narrow walls of the bedroom became unbearably close. He'd go downstairs to the library. It might be he'd be able to rest in a chair before the log fire.