There was now a strange glow of happiness shining on the splendid woman’s face, and the services of Doctor Hugo Alberg were permanently discontinued.
It was impossible for the revengeful Teuton to learn the reason from Justine Duprez. The courteous terms of Mrs. Elaine Willoughby’s letter, inclosing a check for his annual account, were too unmistakable to be misconstrued even by the dense German. It was a congé
not to be misunderstood. His Waterloo!
And, in a roundabout way he had also learned that Judge Endicott and his nephew made up the whole social circle at Lakemere, with Hugh Conyers as a permanent summer guest.
Hugo Alberg had sworn an oath that Harold Vreeland should recoup him for the loss of his star patient. He now only awaited the return of his proposed victim “to levy the Rhine dues.”
A visit to the South Fifth Avenue rooms where Justine had vicariously entertained him in the old days, gave him the news, by the mouth of the old denizen, that “la pauvre Justine” was tied down at Lakemere.
“Some one have robbed ze lady last year, and now Justine is ze prissonaire to watch ze garderobe all ze while; and only ze travail and ze solitude! V’la tout! Pauvre Justine! Elle vent bien partir pour la France.” The doctor hungrily awaited Vreeland’s return for a bleeding process.
No one but the Frenchwoman herself knew how tightly the coils were wound around her. Shaking in fear, left without the secret protection of her traitorous tempter, Vreeland, she dared not try to break away from Lakemere, for she now feared the gleaming wrist-irons.
To run away
would be only to invite an instant arrest, and she panted for the time of the winter’s gaieties. She would have a chance perhaps then to slip away unknown.