“My good woman,” said Lady Dudleigh, anxious to get some clue to her position, “can you tell me what all this means?”
“Sure it's all for the good of your health,” said the woman.
“But I'm not ill.”
“No, not to say ill; but the body's often all right when the mind's all wrong.”
“The mind? There's nothing the matter with my mind. Dr. Morton has been deceived. He would not dare to do this if he knew it.”
“Sure, now, it's nothing at all, and you'll be well soon.”
At these simple words of the woman Lady Dudleigh began to understand the situation. This must be a lunatic asylum, a private one. Sir Lionel had brought her here, and told the doctor that she was insane. The doctor had accepted his statement, and had received her as such. This at once accounted for his peculiar mode of addressing her.
“There's a mistake,” said Lady Dudleigh, quietly. “Dr. Morton has been deceived. Let me see him at once, please, and I will explain. He does not know what a wrong he is doing. My good woman, I am no more mad than you are.”
“Dear, dear!” said the woman, going on placidly with her work; “that's the way they all talk. There's not one of them that believes they're mad.”
“But I'm not mad at all,” said Lady Dudleigh, indignant at the woman's obtuseness.