"I should say so," the doctor replied. "Of course, if he has many more of these paroxysms of rage it might be necessary for her to leave him. But she must be the best judge of that. Doubtless you can arrange that with her. And now I must be getting back to the railway station; if I wish to catch my train I have not much time to lose."
"I am exceedingly obliged to you, Doctor Weston," said Jim gratefully. "I cannot say that you have made my mind easier, but you have at least let me know exactly how matters stand with Mr. Bursfield."
"I am glad to have been of service," said the doctor.
James handed him an envelope containing his fee, and escorted him to the door. When he had seen him depart he returned to the drawing-room and communicated his intelligence to his sister.
"Poor Helen," said Alice, "it is no wonder that she looks anxious. What will you do now, Jim?"
"I must take the night to think the matter over," he answered. "Since the old man is undoubtedly mad, and not only mad, but dangerously so, I cannot bear to contemplate her remaining with him, and yet I have no desire to hasten the crisis."
All the evening Jim brooded over the matter, imagining all sorts of dangers for the woman he loved. At last the time came for them to retire to rest. He was in the act of lighting Alice's candle in the hall, when the sound of steps on the gravel path outside attracted his attention.
"Good gracious!" cried Jim, "who on earth can it be at this time of the night?"
So saying, he hastened to the door. The lights from the hall shone on the steps, and showed him Helen Decie, standing, bareheaded, before him. For a moment the shock at seeing her there at such an hour, and in such a plight, deprived him of speech. Alice was the first to break the silence.
"Helen, my dear girl," she cried, "what does this mean?"