“Shall I call Dr. Noyes to attend her?”
“No.” Mrs. Porter’s mouth closed obstinately. “Except that her manner is a trifle wild and her cheeks unduly flushed, Millicent seems rational. You have great influence with her, Vera; go and quiet her.”
“But I cannot leave your son.”
“Yes, you can; I will stay here until you return.” Mrs. Porter spoke authoritatively and Vera hesitated, Noyes’ caution of the moment before recurring to her; he had told her that Mrs. Porter should be humored, and there was nothing for her to do but obey his instructions. She looked again at Craig Porter, whose closed eyes and regular breathing indicated that his sleep was uninterrupted. If Millicent did require medical attendance she could summon Dr. Noyes and Mrs. Hall, and return to her regular duties. A thought occurred to her, and she turned back to Mrs. Porter.
“Would you like me to call Mrs. Hall?”
“Mercy, no!” Mrs. Porter frowned; she objected to suggestions, no matter how well meant they were. “Go at once, Vera, I do not like to leave Millicent alone for any length of time. She is sitting in the boudoir.”
With a last look at her patient, Vera left the room and sought the boudoir; it was empty. She went at once to Millicent’s bedroom and, her gentle tap getting no response, she opened the door and went in. Millicent was not there, and, somewhat perplexed, Vera looked into the communicating dressing-room and from there passed into her sister’s bedroom. Dorothy was lying asleep on the bed, her gas-light turned low, but as Vera bent over her she saw traces of recent tears on her pale cheeks and forbore to wake her.
Returning to the hall she stood debating as to whether to report to Mrs. Porter or continue her search for Millicent on the first floor. She decided to go back to Mrs. Porter, but as she paused in front of the door of Craig Porter’s bedroom a faint noise caused her to look hastily down the hall just as Millicent emerged from the attic stairs and disappeared down the back staircase. The acetylene lights at either end of the long hall were burning dimly, as Mrs. Porter deemed it unsafe to keep the house in darkness, and Vera saw that Millicent was enveloped in some sort of a cloak.
Considerably perturbed, Vera hesitated, but only for a moment; then she sped after Millicent. Mrs. Porter was on guard in the sick room, and she had sent her to look after her daughter. If Millicent, in a moment of delirium perhaps, attempted to walk abroad at that hour of the night she must be reasoned with and stopped.
Vera’s disturbed ideas took form as she dashed downstairs, the sound of her approach deadened by her rubber-soled shoes. She was halfway down the circular staircase when she saw Millicent fumbling with the lock, by aid of the moonlight streaming through the fanlight over the side door. The clang of the night chain when Millicent unhooked it drowned Vera’s low-voiced call, and, snatching up a small bundle which she had placed on a console, Millicent darted out into the night. Her foot turned just as she was about to descend the few steps leading to the graveled path, and only her outflung hand saved her from a nasty fall. Recovering herself and never glancing behind her, she hastened up the path, being careful, however, to tread only on the turf.