Updyke was plainly at a loss to account for the recognition.
"Very strange, indeed," he conceded as he gave Villard a sharp look. "Sure you didn't have a little brain trouble when you saw those bright eyes?" laughed Updyke. "I can't account for her recognition of a person whom she had never seen or heard of before."
"Nevertheless, what I say is bona fide, as Mrs. Bond will attest. She saw the girl's eyes open, and the look of recognition—and more, the girl smiled at me, and went back to sleep. Now, old sleuth, 'what do you make of that'?—as Sherlock used to say."
"Well, let's see if we can figure it out," replied Updyke soberly. "Why, it's perfectly plain—the message from your dead sweetheart, and the father running around calling his girl by name. My operative phoned me the circumstances. He saw and heard everything."
"You are right—as usual. I'll have to buy a medal for you, but for the present I am going to ask you to look at her. Sometimes a man of your experience may have intuitions that doctors may not have. Benton was here on his second visit just before you came, and is coming back again to-night. Parkins is in very bad shape, so he is giving a larger share of attention to him. He feels sure of Winifred's recovery and is not uneasy about her. Now you come with me and tell me what you think after you've studied her face."
"Lead the way," said Updyke as they ascended the stairway.
The night nurse had arrived, and she came to the door, as the two men looked into the sick room. She glanced up inquiringly.
"I am Mr. Villard and this is Mr. Updyke—a specialist in his way. I want him to look at the patient."
"Come in please," invited the nurse. "She is still asleep and I've kept the night lights on in order that she shall not wake up in too much darkness."