"I think that there is no room for doubt upon the subject," the physician said, in conclusion. "I have never known the fire test to fail."
"Doctor De Trobriand told me of it," intervened old Bernard Dane, excitedly. "He said that if I could in any way expose Beatrix to the action of fire, I would prove beyond a doubt if she were really afflicted with leprosy. You understand my cruel treatment of you now, Beatrix, do you not, that night, long ago, when I tried to induce you to put your hand into the fire?"
"Yes, I remember, Uncle Bernard," she returned, "and I must confess that at the time I was awfully frightened. I thought that you had suddenly lost your reason."
"No wonder!"—the old man smiled grimly. "And now I suppose you all need rest; and Beatrix certainly must have those burns dressed. Lucky that her face has escaped injury. Go upstairs to the blue room, Beatrix."
But Serena barred the way.
"I am mistress here!" she snarled, "and I say that no leprous person shall remain under my roof. It was proved beyond a doubt that her mother, Mildred Dane, was afflicted with the dreadful disease. How then do you know how soon it will show itself in Beatrix, her child? The parent always transmits the disease to the children. There is no mistake upon that point; no avoiding the truth—"
"You are mistaken!"
Doctor Darrow's voice broke in upon Serena's angry tirade.
"I beg your pardon for the contradiction, Mrs. Dane, but you are mistaken. Let me give you an instance of the truth, which proves that the disease is not always transmitted to the children direct from the parents. It may lie in abeyance for two or three generations, and then appear in the next. The story that I am about to relate to you, with your permission, is true, and I repeat it from the written notes of a physician—a friend of mine—who was well acquainted with the parties concerned:
"I used to know a Cuban hero—a revolutionist—who had been run out of his native island by the government. He was the son of a rich planter, had been well educated in France and Spain, and had many accomplishments. He went to New York, and into the cigar business, and soon became wealthy. He married a New York girl and had a family. He had grown to be immensely rich, and lived in grand style, drove blooded horses, and owned his own opera-box. One night he had a long consultation with the family physician in a private room in his elegant mansion. When the doctor left, the Cuban said to his wife in a careless tone: 'Let us go down to Delmonico's, my dear, and have supper.' They went, and the two passed the gayest, merriest evening imaginable.